


Wendigos Aren't Real and Other Lies To Say So You Can Sleep Easier At Night

by ghostvinyls (jebbyfish)



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, HAHA ya'll should strap in cause this is gonna be an adventure, will probs change archive warnings as or if they apply
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-04-29 07:57:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 43,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5120822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jebbyfish/pseuds/ghostvinyls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blackwood Pines was pretty famous for its beautiful mountain ranges and fancy ski lodges and the escape it was from sunny, smoggy L.A.<br/>Honestly, Sam didn't expect that the mountain was hiding sinister monsters or a mysterious trio of siblings that defended the resort when the sun set and the only lights guiding them are the moon and a flamethrower.<br/>Wendigos aren't real, though.<br/>Probably just the wind.</p><p>(AU where the Washingtons are wendigo hunters and Sam gets herself tangled up in the mess. Probably shenanigans. Heads up for sibling banter and terrible flirting because boy am I full of the stuff or what)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Creepy Abandoned Cabin and A Strange, Secretive Girl That Smiles Too Much

“So who lives in the creepy cabin further up mountain?”

Sam jumped, surprised to see Mike, Chris, and Ashley returning from their hike. She gave them a shrug, turning back to cleaning the mugs they had used earlier that morning, half-listening to the trio, half-listening to the news that played on T.V., Matt, Jess, and Emily crowded around on one of the couches.

“No one, I think. Mom said that not a lot of people rented the lodges up here during the summer. They’re more of a winter thing, you know?”

“Uh-huh. Which perfectly explains why the O’Donnell family rented a lodge for the summer.” Chris began to tease her, dropping his hiking gear on the floor of the recently renovated cabin. Sam rolled her eyes at him.

“It’s climbing season! The mountains are so lush and the air is so clean! Or do you prefer breathing in the hot, summer smog back in L.A.?”

“Sam, this rock climbing thing is seriously going to your head. Maybe some dirty L.A. air would fix that,” Mike retorted, stretching out his arms.

“Damn, Mike.” Jess said from the couch, her knees brought up to her chest as she stared down her boyfriend. “And to think you were such a self-proclaimed mountain man.”

“Not when the mountain has a creepy abandoned cabin barely a fifteen minute walk up. Wanna check it out?” He looked between Jess and Sam. Jess recoiled, shaking her head and turning back to the television set.

“Nope. I prefer the simple luxuries of a summer getaway. Like keeping up with the latest news.”

“Uhm, doesn’t exactly sound like a getaway when you’re still attached to society,” Ash had joined Sam in the kitchen, eating from a bag of Goldfish. Jess waved her off.

“Whatever. You weird mountain hermits can enjoy your great outdoors. Us civilized folk will enjoy what we can get.”

Chris and Sam exchanged a look, laughing heartily as the three on the couch absorbed the screen in front of them.

“In any case, I think we should totally explore that cabin,” Mike was speaking again. Sam rolled her eyes.

“You’re still on that? If it’s abandoned, we really shouldn’t go poking around up there.”

“And if it’s not?”

“We still shouldn’t be in there, because that’s trespassing and I’d rather not piss off my summertime neighbors.”

“You’re no fun.”

Mike walked past her to inspect the fridge, frowning.

“When are your parents coming back? Are they gonna bring booze?”

“Mike!”

“What? I’m asking a legitimate question.”

“My mom would kill you if you asked her for booze.”

“Nah,” he stood, a stupid grin still on his face. Teasing Sam was one of his favorite pastimes. “Mrs. O’Donnell loves me too much to want to kill me.”

“Now, I’ve walked in on Michael saying a lot of strange things, but that takes the cake.” It was at that precise moment that Sam’s mother, the sweetest being on their planet earth, walked in through the cabin door followed by her equally as sweet husband, both of them carrying paper bags full of food and bad movies. Six teens chorused a “hi, Mr and Mrs. O’Donnell!” while a chipper, slightly embarrassed Samantha O’Donnell gave a weak “welcome back, parentals.”

“How was the weird mountain mart?” Sam helped her parents with the bags. Her mom gave a shrug, smiling at her only child.

“Weird and a mart. There were some interesting characters there, I suppose.” She looked to her husband, who rolled his eyes.

“Your mom’s just not used to the locals being so… you know.”

Sam nodded, although to be honest, she did not know.

“Hey, Catherine,” Sam wanted to turn around and hit Mike for treating her mom like one-of-the-guys, but she resisted the urge. “Maybe you can give me a better answer than Sam. Who owns the creepy dark lodge up the mountain?”

Mrs. O’Donnell began to laugh, shaking her head. “You’re just like your father. Always so curious about things that don’t matter.”

“I am absolutely serious about this, ma’am.”

“If that’s the case,” she crossed her arms, standing close to Sam in the tiny cabin kitchen, flicking her eyes between the two teens. “I don’t have a better answer. I think that place is long abandoned.”

Mike gave the woman a look that said “not-good-enough-but-i’ll-accept-it-and-drop-this-subject” and opted to join his friends on the couch. Sam sighed, giving her mother a satisfied look for not entertaining Mike Munroe any longer than he needed to be. The boy was way too into horror flicks.

“Now,” Mrs. O’Donnell gave her daughter’s shoulder a squeeze. “Are you having fun? Was this sleepover a little impromptu?”

“It’s fun, mom. Really. There’s nothing more exciting than not only spending a month of summer vacation at some cabin in the middle of nowhere, but inviting my good friends to spend the weekend here too.”

Sam tried to shield the twinge of sadness she felt knowing after tomorrow, her friends would all return home to sunny, smoggy L.A. while she vegetated out in the woods. At least she could climb.

Maybe rock climbing really was going to her head.

\--

 

Sam normally didn’t opt for casual evening hikes in the woods, but the cabin was getting a little too loud and rambunctious for her normally quiet, relaxed taste and she got the hell out of dodge once her parents got started on making pasta for dinner. She wasn’t much aide in the kitchen anyways, and it wasn’t like anyone would miss her for an hour.

The sun was close to setting when she stood outside the cabin, adjusting the straps on her backpack and making sure she was fully equipped before setting out. If there was one thing Sam was during hiking trips, it was prepared. There was no way she’d risk dying out in the woods because she forgot something as simple as a thermos full of water. No siree.

“Where are you off to?”

She jumped, considered backhanding Mike for a second, then changed her mind and turned to face him with some civility.

“Just a hike. Wanted some fresh air.”

“I can come with you.”

Sam was an only child, but Mike made her feel like she had an annoying, overprotective older brother.

“I think I can handle myself out here, Michael, but thanks.” She gave him her best, grateful grin while he returned it with an incredulous glare. She simmered under his scrutiny. She hated that face.

“Sure, Sam. But if you’re not back in an hour I’m calling a search-and-rescue team. With dogs and everything.”

“I knew I could count on you.”

He disappeared back into the cabin and Sam set herself northwards, up the mountain, breathing in the crisp evening air and absorbing the sounds of birds squawking maniacally in the trees, the scittering of squirrels across branches and the gentle howl of the wind. Pine needles crackled under her hiking boots. And the creepy cabin was more than just creepy.

She wasn’t really sure what to make of the cabin at first. Its porch was decaying, firstly, and was covered in pine needles and mulch and squirrel droppings and other droppings she’d rather not identify. The windows were dark, a couple broken into, and the door was also decaying, and gross, and looked slightly petrified but she wasn’t sure “decaying” and “petrified” could both be used to describe icky blacken wood. Cobwebs hung in disarray, covering the windows and much of the porch and much of the cabin, to be quite honest. “Cabin” didn’t really describe the gaping, open entrance to hell in front of her quite neatly. “Shack” or “Murder House” did the trick much better.

But for some Goddamn reason, Sam sauntered close to the porch, inspecting it, scrutinizing it for some sign of life, for some hint that maybe this shitty cabin actually wasn’t abandoned and some crazy hermit lived behind its beaten up door. It wasn’t dark enough, yet, for her to turn tail and head back to her family and friends.

She went up the rickety porch steps, surprised that they held her weight, half expecting maggots and worms and other disgusting beings to crawl from under the steps, but nothing did, so at least the cabin wasn’t infested.

A mouse scurried across her boots.

Okay, so maybe it was infested.

The door looked, for lack of a better word, damp upclose. It smelled of rotten leaves, and maybe she was imagining it but she thought she could smell burgers, and that revelation alone made her want to throw up. Who the hell would smell burgers at a creepy, abandoned cab-- shack? There was the crinkle of a wrapper under her foot when she stepped closer to the door.

_What do you know? An Ultimate Cheeseburger wrapper. Disgusting._

A shiver went down her spine.

She stood there, on the porch of the strange, abandoned little shack, contemplating. Part of her wanted to knock on the door, half expecting someone to answer. What would she say to them?

_Hi! I’m Sam, my family and I are renting the cabin just fifteen minutes down from here! We’re a nice, well meaning bunch and it would be really great if you don’t murder us with your axe or whatever choice of weapon you have! We’re having pasta tonight if you’re hungry!_

Yeah, right.

Maybe she should just head back down again. The sun was starting to set anyways, painting the sky an array of oranges and pinks and dark blues. She certainly didn’t need Mike to call search-and-rescue.

“Having fun?”

The voice made Sam almost jump straight out of her skin. She turned around, eyes wide, to gawk at the stranger that called out to her.

It was just a teenage girl. A teenage girl that was much taller than Sam, with long, dark hair tied in a simple braid tossed over her right shoulder and thick, black framed glasses that sat on the bridge of her slightly pointed nose. She was grinning at Sam, one hand gripping the strap of her backpack, the other carrying a rolled up paper bag with the easy-to-identify mountain mart logo on the side. She stood casually, balancing her weight on one leg while the other stuck out, giving the girl a kind of childish look. She couldn’t have been older than Sam.

“Sorry,” the stranger had a tittle to her voice, and Sam couldn’t have felt more mocked. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Scaring me is kind of an understatement,” Sam finally said after a moment, still dumbstruck in the presence of this other girl. “But I’ll accept the apology.”

“Thanks, I think,” she cocked her head to one side, and her braid fell from her shoulder. “My name’s Hannah.”

“Samantha. Most people call me Sam.”

“Sam,” Hannah nodded, her eyes flicking up to watch the sky change colors. “Don’t you think it’s getting a little dark out?”

“Nice observation. You’re not, like, scared of the dark, are you?”

Hannah’s eyes seemed to darken with the sky. She stared at her for a moment, then shook her head. “No. But it’s not safe to hike in the dark. Where’s your campsite?”

“Non-existent, actually. My family’s renting the little cabin just a few minutes walk from here.” Hannah didn’t seem like she was a park ranger, but she certainly carried herself like one. She turned towards the direction Sam indicated, then nodded, turning back to the blonde.

“I can walk with you.”

“Thanks for the offer, Hannah, but I think I know where my cabin is.”

“It’s safer to walk with a friend.” Hannah was still smiling, and Sam didn’t want to admit that her grin was off putting, but it absolutely was. But she could tell that it was moot trying to argue with the not-park ranger girl. Sam shrugged, making her way down the porch, and the two girls began to walk away from the shack.

The girls were quiet for a few fair minutes, listening to the sound of the woods going to sleep. Hannah spoke first.

“Where are you from?”

“Los Angeles. We’re just here for a month.”

“Small world! I’m from L.A. too!”

“Really? Wild coincidence.”

The small talk failed, and the two continued their silent walk. A strange wail came from further up the mountain. Sam stopped, turning around, chills crawling across her skin, a weight forming in her chest.

“What’s wrong?” Hannah had stopped too, watching Sam.

“I think I just heard something. Like, a scream.” She turned to face Hannah, whose eyes were still and dark, the grin all but disappeared from her face, leaving behind a thin, serious line. Sam could almost see the cogs working in her head. After a few seconds, Hannah’s strange, off putting smile returned for a second round.

“Might just be the wind playing tricks. That happens in the woods a lot, when you’re alone.”

“Yeah,” Sam fought back against the uncomfortable feeling in her chest. “Maybe.”

They continued their trek, this time Hannah was hellbent on keeping up a conversation with Sam, asking her who was at the cabin, her interests, what clubs she was in at school. Sam often tried to retort with the same questions, but the girl was keen on being vague.

“I have a brother and sister. We’re all pretty close.”

“Really? Must be a hassle. I’m an only child.”

“Not really. It’s nice to have siblings. You feel less alone in the mountains.”

“Don’t you guys only come here for breaks?”

“What-- yeah! Yeah, we do. Sorry. But sometimes it can feel like you’re really alone up here.”

“I guess.”

Time seemed to pass quicker, and soon the girls were standing on the porch of the brightly lit O’Donnell cabin, loud laughter exploding from inside. Another screech came from the mountain, but Hannah called it “the wind” again, and the subject dropped. Sam gave Hannah a small smile, hand on the doorknob.

“Wanna come in for dinner? My mom makes pretty decent vegetarian, whole-wheat linguini.”

“Thank you, Sam, but I’ll pass. My brother’s gonna be worried sick, and he’s super overprotective, you know?”

Sam nodded her head. She did, in a different way, know.

“Well, whenever you’re in this neck of the woods, you know whose cabin to come crawling to! My friends are all kind of leaving after tomorrow, so it’d be nice to talk to someone else other than my parents once they’re gone.”

Hannah laughed, tugging at her braid with one hand. “I’ll remember that. Stay safe, okay? Don’t hike at night or you’ll get hurt.”

“Sure thing, ranger. Same to you.” Sam indicated the sky, and the brunette laughed again, shaking her head before descending the steps.

“Oh! Sam, one more thing.”

The blonde turned around, twisting the handle of the door. Hannah’s strange smile was gone, and her face was dark and serious once more, which looked scarier in the darkness.

“Don’t go north when you hike. There’s a lot of dangerous things up there.”

_Is she talking about bears? I thought bears weren’t indigenous to Blackwood._

But Sam decided to humor the girl rather than challenge her.

“Okay. Thanks for the advice.”

A muffled “Hannah!” came from up the trail, and the girl turned towards the voice, frowning. She looked back at Sam, giving her an apologetic smile.

“You’re welcome. See you around, Sam.”

And the girl went north.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [strums guitar] and let the adventure begin! i'm probably way too excited for my own good for this. it's different from what i usually write? yea let's go with that  
> things are cookin' up in blackwood :^)


	2. Call It What You Will, But A Wendigo’s Cry Isn’t the Damn Wind

Hannah walked quickly up the mountain, careful to watch her step in the poorly lit evening, grimacing every now and then when she heard the angry screeches of angry Wendigos that prowled the mountain for a tasty morsel.

This was, by far, the worst way to spend her summer vacation.

Why does she do it every year?

“Hannah!” The voice was closer now, and Hannah crossed her fingers, hoping that she was actually hearing her brother calling for her and not some damned monster ready to tear out her heart.

“Here!” She called back, almost running into the lumbering body in front of her. She let out a startled cry, falling backwards, fumbling to reach for the knife in her boot. The person in front of her leapt back, cursing.

“Fucking shit, Han. You scared the daylight outta me.”

It was just her brother. Brandishing a gun, with the nose pointed at her face. She frowned, pushing up her glasses with one hand.

“Jesus, Josh. Do me a favor and _stop pointing a shotgun at me.”_

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

He shouldered the gun, reaching out a hand to help her stand, and she brushed off her hiking shorts, still frowning. She had dropped the bag from the mart, which now laid crumpled on the ground, the prepackaged donuts and chips spilling out. She sighed.

“Our dinner’s all over the ground again.”

“You were supposed to be back before the sun set.”

There he goes. Accusing her of things she was supposed to or not supposed to do. The routine was tiring.

“I know, but there was a girl and she was just standing in front of our cabin. I had to get her away.”

“Yeah, we all saw her. Victor suggested scaring her away by firing a shot, but Beth stopped him before he potentially got us a lawsuit. Also, _you_ showed up like a knight in shining armor. Real annoying, by the way.”

Josh had bent down to help Hannah collect the contents of the bag, gently replacing them back inside and carrying them, making sure his youngest sister was following him close behind. She was, but irritation glowered on her usually bright, happy face. He rolled his eyes a little, listening for sounds of the supernatural.

“You didn’t tell her who you were, right?”

“I told her my name was Hannah. Nothing else.”

“That’s kind of the definition of telling someone who you are.”

“I didn’t say we owned the freaking mountain, numbnuts. I was trying to be polite.”

Josh proceeded to launch into his favorite lecture, the one about keeping normal people away from the mountain and safe from the wendigos, the one where he goes on and on about how it was their duty as the owners to protect the people on the mountain, the one where he lists all the dangers about Blackwood and wendigos and Hannah resisted the urge to turn around and take up Sam on her dinner offer.

“--and that, dearest sister, is why people like blondie back there are in constant danger--”

“And why it is our job to protect them from it,” Hannah finished the speech with him, and Josh gave her a tired, annoyed look before skipping up the steps to their “abandoned” cabin, pushing open the door with his foot.

“Your sass hurts, sometimes, Han.” Josh added before stepping into the darkness. Hannah snorted, following her brother through the door.

“Your face hurts sometimes.”

Victor and Beth were sitting at the beaten up table near the back of the cabin, both of them watching out the window. Beth turned when the two walked through, sighing with relief.

“Oh thank God.”

“Aw, Bethie was worried about us,” Josh began to coo, setting his gun down on the unused dresser, grinning at her. Beth shook her head.

“No. Thank God you guys came back with food. I thought I was gonna starve.”

Hannah set the mart bag down on the table in front of the two, and Beth dumped it's contents between herself and the old wendigo hunter, a mad grin on her face. Victor grunted.

“I still don’t get why ya kids don’t just steal food from the main cabin. Your folks ain’t gonna miss a few steaks.”

“Please, Victor, if we were any good at stealing, we’d bring back more than just steaks.” Josh wasn’t looking at him, sprawled out on the dirty, broken up couch in the front of the roomless cabin, writing notes in a brown, leather-bound journal. “I was thinking filet mignon. Maybe fancy lobster hors d'oeuvres. The works.”

“Josh, I ain’t above throwing you out into the woods right now to fend for yourself with a garland of bones and a meat cleaver.”

“Duly noted, sir.” He grinned up at the old man, slapping the journal shut with one hand. Hannah joined the two at the table, staring out the window into the night. The four were quiet while they watched, waited.

“Are we going out for a hunt tonight?” Beth finally inquired, watching the old man as he drank from his flask of whiskey. He shook his head.

“Not close enough to harm nobody. Safe to say we can just wait.”

“If that’s the case, I want a nap.” Hannah grumbled, shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her hoodie. Victor chuckled, giving the girl a gentle pat on the shoulder.

“Maybe when the sun rises, kid. Ain’t safe, now.”

“That’s what you always say.”

“It’s always true.”

An inhuman screech rattled the cabin, and in a flash the old hunter was seizing his flamethrower, Josh his gun, Beth her crossbow, and Hannah her flare guns. She silently wished that they’d all trust her more and give her a real weapon, but the flare guns weren’t shit, and she was at least thankful for that. Victor pressed a finger to his lips, and the silence was so thick she could cut it with a knife.

Another screech. Closer.

“Sounds like we got a hunt.” Josh whispered, clicking the safety off his gun. Victor grinned, nodding his head.

“Y’all know the drill.”

The screeching was coming from somewhere just outside the cabin, and Hannah ignored the drumming in her chest, the little voice in her head telling her to run away, to stay as far away as possible from whatever was on the other side of the wall.

“Ready?” Victor asked. More like he mouthed, as the old man wouldn’t dare breathe a word with a wendigo so close.

In turn, the girls and Josh nodded at him.

Then, they sprung into action.

\--

 

“I met someone.” Sam announced at dinner around a mouthful of linguini. The chatter around her seemed to die down, and eight pairs of eyes were staring at her. “On my hike.”

“What the hell, Sam?” Mike was the first to break the silence. Mrs. O’Donnell gave him a look.

“Language, Michael.”

“Sorry, but seriously, _what?”_

“Just some girl. She walked me back. Was real cryptic and smiled a lot, but she was nice.” Sam hated the looks they were giving her, like she had just grown an extra head. “What? What’s so weird about that?”

“Nothing, hon.” Her mom was doing a piss poor job of not making it seem weird.

Sam shook her head, turning back to her food, hoping someone would take a hint and change the subject.

“Um, hate to change the subject from Sam’s chance encounter with a strange girl in the woods, but who’s gonna go to Mr. McKinney’s weird math camp in August?”

Sam made a mental note to thank Chris later as the teens launched into a heated discussion about whether or not they wanted to spend two whole weeks with Mr. McKinney learning about asymptotes and derivatives. Sam continued to pick at her food, thinking about Hannah the not-really-park ranger and her strange warnings about the night, about hiking northwards, and thinking about how Hannah ended up doing the exact opposite of what she told Sam to not do.

There was something _very_ peculiar about not-park ranger Hannah and, by some extension,  Blackwood.

She shoveled linguini into her mouth.

Best not to think too hard about it.

\--

 

Fact: wendigos smelled like shit. Or something like shit, maybe a revolting combination of dried blood and fresh offal and also shit.

Another fact: wendigos were smart. Dangerously so.

Josh wasn’t entirely sure which he thought was worst.

He tried to hold his breath, avoiding gagging and being spotted by the creature that stood ten feet tall in front of him, sniffing the air. It was a little too close for comfort, and Josh wanted to crack some ill timed joke about getting to know him first before they cozied up, but he held his tongue. He gazed helplessly to Beth, who stood a few feet away from him, her face unreadable. She made eye contact with him, and he noticed her hands were shaking, crossbow quivering (pun a little intended) in her grasp. He wanted to tell her to run, but 1.) he wasn’t that stupid to talk and 2.) she wasn’t that stupid to actually start running away from a monster that could sense movement.

To be fair, the whole situation was pretty fucking stupid, and he cursed at himself for getting the monster’s attention from Hannah when he was the one holding the shotgun, AKA, the second best bet against wendigos they had.

He sent a silent prayer to whatever ancestors were watching him from above.

 _You’re a dead fuck,_ he swore he heard them pray back. If ancestors were the kind to pray back to idiot descendants that weren’t using their shotguns properly.

The wendigo let out a cry, the sound a strange mix of a record scratching and a human in agony. He hated those screams. They were way more human than monster.

A shout tugged Josh away from his thoughts.

“Duck!”

He did.

The wendigo was illuminated in hot light, spreading across the grey skinned beast’s back like the wings of a phoenix. Fire was a damn good weapon against the undead.

It began to wail, scrambling to put out the fire searing its flesh, and in the confusion Josh clicked the safety off his shotgun and took aim, firing point-blank into its face. He kind of just pissed it off, but it was in too much pain to really think about killing Josh. He was a little thankful for that.

Another roar of the flamethrower and Josh swore he could feel his eyebrows singeing off, and the wendigo bolted back up the mountain, away from the cabin and the bits of civilization just fifteen minutes down the trail.

Beth let out an exhausted sigh near him, and she crumpled into a heap on the soft, mossy earth. She gave Josh a grateful, tired look. He gave his sister a grin.

“Still kickin’, huh?”

“Shut up.”

Victor and Hannah clambered up to meet the two, the latter breathing heavily, flare gun drawn but not fired. Victor just grunted, and Josh took that as a sign of approval.

“We… didn’t… kill it…” Hannah spoke slowly between gasps of air. Victor nodded.

“‘Course not. You know full well we can’t kill the wendigos.”

“But… it got really… really close to…” She didn’t finish, knowing Victor would get the point.

“Yeah. It did. Bastards are gettin’ desperate for human flesh.”

“Was that the one?” Beth asked, dropping her crossbow on the ground, tugging at her hair. She did that a lot when she was nervous. “The Makkapitew?”

Victor shushed her, looking around slowly, before shaking his head.

“You’ll know ‘im when you see ’im. Let’s get back inside.”

Josh followed the old man and twins, often looking over his shoulder, as it became habit to do so. He was a little grateful that Victor didn’t make them go chasing after the wendigo, because Josh hated having to travel to the Sanatorium, but he did admit that it was uncharacteristic of Victor to _not_ make them chase after the wendigo.

Maybe the old man was losing his touch. Or he was just tired. Either way, Josh didn’t complain.

Hannah had immediately retired on the old couch, flopping into its cushions, waking up dust that danced in the air a full minute before settling down. She released her hair from its braid, and combed through with her fingers, her brows furrowed, lips a straight line in concentration. Josh snickered at his sister’s expression.

“What’s got you in such a ghastly mood? Besides almost being eaten by a wendigo again.”

A deep frown replaced her grimace.

“That thing got way too close to the cabin sites. If we didn’t intercept it…” She shuddered. “I’d hate to think about what would’ve happened.”

“It would’ve eaten some unfortunate vacationers and Mom and Dad would have a lot of press cover-up to do?”

A sigh. “Yes, Josh, that’s exactly what I was trying not to think about. Thanks for verbalizing it.”

“You know, if you were scared the wendigo was gonna chew your new friend’s face off, you’re free to say so.”

“I wasn’t sc--” Hannah stopped mid-protest, her face contorting from upset to defeated. “Okay, so I was worried about Sam. How could I not be?”

“Sam. The trespasser has a name.”

“Don’t call her that. She didn’t know anyone was in here.”

Josh shrugged. “Makes no difference.”

“Maybe if you met her, you wouldn’t think so low of her.”

He scoffed, shaking his head at her. “Bad idea, Han. The last time I met one of the vacationers, her boyfriend gave me a black eye.”

“Okay, but that was kinda your fault for flirting with her.”

He hated admitting Hannah was right, but she was definitely right about that. Josh stuck to his guns though. Meeting the vacationers and befriending them was always a bad idea. What if he was killed one night during a hunt? Or the vacationers found out he was hunting wendigos in the first place? The thought of revealing his and his sisters’ deepest secret made him shudder with worry. It was easier to shut people out. Easier to evade them from heartbreak, from getting hurt.

Josh Washington was a firm believer in being an almost lone wolf. No need for friends outside his sisters and Victor.

It was easier that way.

\--

 

Sam was having a hard time falling asleep.

Maybe it was because of the horrifying screaming she heard in the distance, or maybe she was just stressed about her friends going home the next day, but her eyes refused to stay shut and she found herself staring at the ceiling for minutes on end. Eventually she gave up altogether.

Another eerie wail. She convinced herself it was just the wind.

She tried to distract herself with her phone, but the lack of wifi (of course) and lack of games (most of her apps were social media or step-counting apps) made her shut it off again, angrily cursing at herself to download Candy Crush or something when she had access to the Internet. She could only imagine tech-savvy Chris’s horror at the revelation of a lack of wifi. Either he wasn’t bringing it up or she was a bad friend not to notice him losing his shit over it.

Seven teenagers were packed tightly together on the living room floor in sleeping bags or, in Emily and Jess’s case, on the couches, and Sam found herself shimmying out of her own bag to escape to the kitchen for water. She carefully navigated the bodies arranged on her floor, and she wished the cabin was bigger so they’d all get their own rooms.

She drank maybe three glasses of water. She ignored the wind (screams).

Sam quickly discovered it was ten times easier to get out of her sleeping bag than it was to get in, and she almost succeeded in wiggling back into the safety of her cocoon when she kicked the body at the foot of her, who resounded with a groan. A groggy Chris sat up, rubbing his eyes, staring in Sam’s general direction because she probably was just a great big blur to him at the moment.

“Why’d you wake me up?” He finally managed. It actually sounded more like “Why… wake mub?” but Sam got the gist of it.

“I didn’t. On purpose, at least,” she whispered back. Chris heaved a sigh, rubbing more sleep from his eyes.

“Whub time sid?” (“What time is it?”)

“Almost quarter to three.”

Another sigh.

Followed by a loud, strangled scream.

Both of the teens froze, Chris’s sleepiness all but gone. He fumbled with his glasses, sticking them on his face, staring at Sam with his mouth slightly ajar.

“What the fuck was that?” He hissed.

“The wind! I don’t know!” Sam hissed back.

“Sam, the wind doesn’t sound like someone’s dying outside! Not usually!”

“No one’s dying outside!”

“Then give me a better explanation than the wind!”

The two stopped, listening carefully. No further screams from the wind. It was Sam’s turn to heave a few sighs.

 _“It was the wind,_ Chris.”

Chris grumbled, picking up his phone from the rug and unlocking it, scrolling through his apps for a few seconds before clicking it off again. It was a well renowned habit of his. He gave Sam an incredulous look, more annoying than Mike’s, before he flopped backwards into his pillow. Sam mirrored the gesture. For a few minutes, neither spoke, and Sam was certain the boy fell back asleep.

“Sam, that was not the wind. I can feel it.”

“Alright Chris. If it wasn’t the wind, what the hell do you suppose it was?”

“I don’t know and I hope we never have to.”

“Goodnight, Chris.”

“Goodnight, Sam.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHA oh boy  
> we're gonna start really cooking things up in chapter three  
> stay tuned kids!!


	3. Dying of Boredom on Blackwood Isn’t Feasible When You’re Probably Gonna Die of Something Else

Sam was delighted to find that the mountain mart had cell service. Chris was giddy about it.

“Hey, Sam, do me a favor and bring my bag and stuff down from your cabin. I’ve decided I’m moving into this store.”

She snorted at him, dropping a bag of rice chips into the dirty blue basket he held, focusing her attention on the brightly colored, neatly organized shelves of snacks. “Sure. I’d love to have a little more wiggle room on the cabin floor once you’re out.”

“Oh, you’re hilarious.”

Neither of them brought up the screams (wind) they heard last night. Most people wouldn’t believe there was anything dangerous on the mountain. Chris and Sam included themselves in that majority.

The pair walked between aisles, scanning the contents, every now and then picking up some oddly-named treat and deciding whether or not it’d fill their little basket. (“Caribou Crap. One part hillbilly, two parts delectable.” _“Please,_ put that back.”)

They continued perusing the store, stopping at one point to recollect themselves while Chris absentmindedly scrolled through Snapchat stories. Sam took her time to study the three other people in the small market. There was the cashier, a tired, clearly hungover girl with lip piercings and an uneasy grimace. She had a snake tattoo slithering up her collarbone to her jawline, and Sam quietly appreciated the aesthetic the girl was going for. A different shopper was a little old man with a pot belly, his grey beard stringy and unkempt, and he kept fidgeting, debating with himself over which brand of beer he wanted to buy for him and his buddies. The third was…

Hannah?

Sam had to do a double take at the teenage girl browsing the limited, slightly outdated magazine rack near the cash register. Her dark hair wasn’t in a braid, for one thing, but down and cut in a trendy bob with bangs to match. She didn’t have glasses, either, or the look of a park ranger, judging by her casual, non-hiking clothes. She juggled a bottle of soda in one hand, her other, keys and a smartphone. Hannah? Maybe. Maybe not. Sam nudged the boy next to her.

“Chris.”

“I am Chris, yes.”

She kept her eyes glued on Probably Hannah.

“Shut up, first of all. See that girl over there?”

“Creepy cashier or the tall one by the mags? Ooh, _Seventeen._ Poor taste in tabloids. What a shame, she seemed nice.”

_“Shut up, Chris._ That’s her. The girl I met last night.”

“Oh. Cool, let’s go say hi.”

He began to move towards the brunette and Sam let out a startled yelp, pulling him back.

“No! We aren’t going to say hi! That’s _weird!_ We’ll look weird!”

Chris gave her a mocking look.

“Yes, Sam, because any part of this was normal to begin with. We’re just saying hi.”

Sam tried to protest again, but the boy was already navigating the shelves to reach the brunette by the magazines. Sam couldn’t help but feel like a dog, following her master with her tail tucked between her legs in shame.

Chris urged Sam forward when they got close, and the two stopped on the other side of the rack. Probably Hannah didn’t seem to notice, or maybe she did and was just ignoring them. Chris gave Sam a nudge, mouthing at her to go talk to Probably Hannah while he checked out their groceries with the snake-tattooed cashier. Sam shot him a glare, turning back to watch Maybe Hannah reluctantly.

“Hi, Hannah,” Sam finally said after a moment of watching the girl. She looked up, raising a curious eyebrow at the pair.

“Sorry?” Probably Hannah managed, her face saying something along the lines of “I-don’t-know-who-the-hell-you-are-but-my-name’s-not-Hannah.”

Oh.

_Oh._

“You’re not Hannah,” Sam choked out, hoping her face didn’t look as red or as dumbfounded as she felt. The brunette tilted her head to the side, before grinning in the same, strangely fake way Hannah had. It sent shudders down Sam’s spine.

“Unfortunately, I’m Beth.”

“Not Hannah, but Beth.” Sam stared at the brunette. “What?”

She silently prayed for a day when she could go back in time to this exact moment and punch herself in the face for being such an idiot. Not Hannah But Beth began to laugh, setting down the magazine she was inspecting and nodded her head.

“Uhm, we’re twins. Sorry, but who are you?”

Chris spoke before Sam could make an even bigger fool of herself.

“I’m Chris, this is Sam. She met your sister last night, apparently, and thought you were her. Our mistake.”

“Ah. Understandable. So you’re the famous Sam.”

“Famous?” Sam finally sputtered out.

“Yep. Hannah was so excited about making a new friend up here. Summer can get kinda lonely. Not a lot of folk rent up here during the hot months.”

“Because they’re sane, reasonable people that understand the meaning of the words ‘ski resort’?” Chris asked, grinning. Beth retaliated with a snort.

“Pretty much. Not a lot of skiing you can do up here in July. _However,_ if you’re interested in fishing…”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks, but no thanks, Betharoni and Cheese. But we gotta go. Nice meeting you.” Chris held up the paper bag of mart food, grabbing Sam’s arm with his free hand, and pulled her towards the automatic double doors, leaving behind a slightly startled, slightly confused girl with magazines to read.

The pair didn’t speak until the mart was out of sight.

“Where the hell did ‘Betharoni and Cheese’ come from?” Sam snorted. Chris sighed, shrugging at her.

“That was the first thing I could think of, okay? I don’t do so hot under pressure.”

“Were you under pressure?”

“Kind of. Maybe. I don’t really know. But wow, Sam, what was that? You totally choked.”

“Hey, I was a little flustered and confused. When Hannah said she had a sister, I didn’t think she meant an identical twin sister.”

Chris furrowed his brows, pursing his lips in the way he usually does when he’s thinking too hard about something.

Sam raised her brows at him. “What?”

“Huh? Nothing. But damn, does she ring a bell.”

“You think you know her?”

“From somewhere, sure. Not entirely where from, but yeah, I think I do know Beth. Crazy, right? She’s so weird.”

“Good or bad kind of weird?”

“There’s only one kind of weird, Sam.”

They reached the cabin after walking onwards another ten minutes, greeting Sam’s folks and the others, dumping the food contents onto the dining table and insisting on everyone enjoying their snacks. Chris gave Sam a look that said they were going to talk later, and Sam feigned insult at the gesture. There wasn’t really a later when her six close friends had a plane to catch at eight.

\--

 

The time came and went, and Sam felt like she was just riding the current, allowing herself to be pushed and pulled by a dastardly inner monologue that was trying to convince her to investigate on Hannah and Beth, a wild premonition that the world she knew and loved was going to flip upside down and inside out picked at her brain, and even when Sam convinced herself that maybe she was too hyped up, too tired from not sleeping well the night before, she couldn’t shake the feeling. Nothing could go wrong, dammit, it’s just a mountain and it’s just summer vacation and maybe she was just feeling the withdrawals from sunny, smoggy L.A.

She decided rock climbing could wait a few days. At least, until Sam got rid of the icky feelings she had.

She had gone down to the cable car station to send off her friends, who huddled together, recounting the weekend with laughter and teasing. Soon, the cable car parked in front of the station, and Sam gave each of her friends a tight hug and parting words, watching them enter the car, until it was just her and Mike standing alone on the platform.

“Have a safe rest of your summer, Mike.” Mike’s hugs were very comforting and uncomfortably long. When he finally pulled away, he patted her head affectionately, a grin on his face.

“You too, Sam. Just don’t let the boredom of the mountains eat away at your soul.”

“I’m sure I can survive a little bit of boredom.”

“You know who to call when you need to get away.”

She waved bye to him and all the others when they were settled into the tiny cable car, making dumb faces at her friends to which they retaliated quickly, and the silly expressions war continued on for a few minutes until the cable car descended, out of her sight. She crossed her arms over her chest.

With a twinge of gloom pecking at her heart, Sam stood alone in the station.

Best not to think about it.

She turned on her heel, stepping out of the station to follow the trail back to her cabin. She wanted to laugh at herself, realizing for the first time how dark it was outside.

_“Don’t go north when you hike.”_

_“Don’t hike at night or you’ll get hurt.”_

It was almost amusing that she was doing exactly those things. Northbound, in the dark. Sam silently hoped Hannah wasn’t watching her, waiting to pop out from behind a tree and give her a stunning grin, repeating her warnings.

_“Don’t go north! Don’t hike at night! You’ll get hurt!”_

Although the idea of it was funny, Sam really, really hoped Hannah wasn’t the kind for that. Or Beth, for that matter.

She stopped outside her cabin door, starting to clean off the bottoms of her boots when another eerie scream echoed in the air. Sam froze, staring in the direction the scream came from.

North.

In the dark.

Absolutely not the wind.

Sam bit her lip, debating between following the ghastly noise or walking into her cabin, ignoring it again, pretending it was the wind.

But really, how effective was faking it gonna be?

She steeled herself, stepping down the porch steps of her cabin, and began to walk towards it.

\--

 

It wasn’t until Sam walked past the creepy abandoned shack that she began to feel uneasy. Maybe it was just the terrible atmosphere the place provided, or maybe because it was dark as shit, but Sam couldn’t shake the feeling in her stomach that she was absolutely not supposed to be here.

She stuck her tongue out at the shack, half expecting it to do the same. A low growl came from further north. She ignored the shack, staring in the direction of the noise, following it.

_This is exactly how people die in horror movies,_ Sam scolded herself. _Wait, that's dumb. It’s probably just a wolf. Wolves are indigenous to Blackwood, unlike bears._

A crackle came from the brush on her right. She froze.

“Hello?” Her voice dropped to a low whisper, and she damn wished she brought a flashlight. No response. Go figure.

The brush began to rustle, and Sam wanted to yell at it to calm down, but she figured that wasn’t appropriate given the situation. Instead, she took a slow step towards it. Her stomach did somersaults.

“Sam?”

She couldn’t help but scream, but halfway through she felt a hand clamp down hard over her mouth, another hand wrapping around her shoulders.

“Sam! Calm down! Be quiet, please!” Hannah was whispering rather angrily, squeezing Sam’s jaw shut, and Sam took a moment to admire her strength, but she was Samantha O’Donnell, and if Samantha O’Donnell was anything, it was resourceful.

She licked her hand.

Hannah leapt back, looking at her hand, eyes wide, then looking up at Sam, mouth agape.

“Thank you for letting me go, Hannah,” Sam said.

“Did you seriously _lick_ me? Oh my God.” Hannah wiped the saliva off on her pant leg, frowning at her.

“Sorry. You attacked me.”

“I didn’t attack you. You screamed first.”

“Okay. You _scared_ me. Met your sister, by the way. She’s nice. Didn’t know you were a twin.”

Hannah’s eyes dropped a moment, and there was a sheepishness to her voice. “Sorry, shouldn’t have left that out.”

“I’ll let it slide.”

“Anyway,” Hannah studied Sam for a moment, her expression unreadable. “I told you not to hike up here at night.”

“I’m aware of this,” Sam lamely responded, avoiding eye contact. “And I’m sorry. I just heard something, and thought, well hey, why not follow it?”

“You heard the wind.”

This time she met her gaze.

“No, Hannah. I don’t know what’s up this mountain, but I can tell you straight up that the wind doesn’t normally sound like people screaming like they’re being tortured.”

Hannah’s expression faltered. She stopped looking at Sam, instead facing the trail, chewing on her lower lip. Sam spoke up again.

“Hannah, do you know what’s going on up there?”

She shook her head. “You really need to go back to your cabin, Sam. Where it’s safe.”

The unease Sam felt earlier came back like a tidal wave, threatening to drown her. Hannah still didn’t look at her, and for the first time Sam saw the glint of a weapon sticking out of the pocket of her hoodie. Warning lights went off in her head.

“Hannah,” Sam spoke slowly, softly, terror creeping into her tone as the reality of the situation seemed to really, truly dawn on her. “Safe from what?”

A screech ripped through the mountain.

Hannah turned back around, eyes widening, a hand flying to the pocket with her concealed weapon. Sam was about ready to bolt, but Hannah held out a hand, shaking her head.

“Sam, I need you to trust me. Don’t move. Not a muscle.”

She didn’t know why she obeyed the not-ranger, but Sam stood still, maintaining eye contact with her.

Only, Sam realized, Hannah wasn’t looking at her, but behind her.

She held her breath.

A low growl emitted from Sam's left side, then a shuffling noise. For a second Sam would’ve believed it was a wolf, until it screamed the same disturbing scream that’s done nothing but stopped her heart every time she heard it.

Not the wind.

Her legs began to ache, and Sam resisted every urge in her body that insisted on stretching her legs out, insisted on moving. She wasn’t all that good at staying still. She continued to stare at Hannah, who was pulling her weapon from her pocket, and Sam instantly recognized it as a flare gun.

“Okay. So, plan.” Hannah’s voice was barely a whisper.

“Plan?” Sam managed.

“Sam, when I pull the trigger, I need you to run. To the cabin.”

“My cabin?”

“No. That one.” Her eyes dared to shift, pointing in the direction of the dreaded, abandoned, gross shack. Sam wanted to cry, or laugh, or probably both. Just her luck.

“That cabin. Okay. Then what?”

“Knock on the door, then give the code word. It should be ‘Stargirl.’”

“What, like the Jerry Spinneli novel? _Seriously?”_

“Sorry my code words aren’t good enough for you, Sam!” Hannah hissed, her eyes still trained on whatever was standing behind her. “Just make a break for it, okay? Beth should let you in.”

“Beth? Wait, what about you?”

“I’ll be right behind you. Ready?”

“Not really, but I don’t think I have much of a choice, right?” Sam forced a smile, and Hannah raised her gun.

“Thanks for trusting me.”

She fired.

Sam ran.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :^) anyways  
> next chapter we'll finally (!!) get some josh and sam interactions yaaaay  
> get hyped


	4. There are Two Things That Can Lead to Easy Trouble: Running, and the Truth

Sam was pretty good at running. She spent most of her high school career on the track or with the cross country team, and all she really liked to do was run. It was catharsis, really, clearing her head of all her little demons, the anxiety, the stress. It kept her body moving, which Sam appreciated, because she was never good at not-moving. Movement was part of who she was, whether it was just drumming her fingers against her knees or doing a 5k for charity, Sam was never afraid to run.

She heard, one time, that running away from what scared you was just avoiding the problem.

She figured that one was a fucked up lie.

Sam was pretty sure that Hannah’s creepy shack wasn’t actually that far away from where she was standing, but trying to run towards it while a million different thought processes scrambled to take hold of her attention made it seem much further. She couldn’t have been more than ten steps away.

There was a scream. Hannah was shouting something.

Sam almost missed the cabin.

She skidded to a stop, collapsing rather gracefully into the trail, and it was a mad scramble to try and stand. She couldn’t feel her legs, for one thing, and for another thing, every instinct in her was screaming at her to keep running, to not stop, because what the fuck was she thinking? There was something back there, and whatever that something was, it wasn’t going to give her a high five for completing the race.

She collected some of her thoughts, and she stood, turning to look at the cabin. The sound of a gun firing, the whistle of a flare. Another scream.

One part of Sam told her to go up to the cabin door and get inside. Another dared her to look behind her.

She hated dares. She hated looking.

Because whatever Hannah was in a stand-off with, it certainly wasn’t a wolf. Or a bear. Or human, for that matter.

It stood, twice Hannah’s height, grey, translucent skin stretched over jutting out ribs, eyes cloudy and blank, a mouth full of yellowing, blood caked fangs, gnashing over and over while it raged at the poor girl, salivating. Sam could see tufts of sandy brown hair still attached to its scalp, and it lumbered in slow, jerky motions towards Hannah, who was loading another gun, moving backwards towards the direction of the cabin.

The cabin.

Sam snapped back into focus.

She took the short steps two at a time, leaping onto the landing, ignoring the flash of light that came from around the cabin side. Her fist slapped hard against the door, and she began to shout “Stargirl!” at whoever was on the other side. There was a click, and she fell through the threshold.

“What the hell is going on?” A voice, angry, the edges of their words laced with poison, was shouting at Sam. It was too dark to see.

“Josh, calm down!” Another. This one was Beth. Sam knew Beth.

“Why the hell is Hannah out there fending off a wendigo by herself?” The first voice, Josh, Sam presumed, continued to shout at her.

“Leave her alone, Joshua. This girl doesn’t know shit!”

Sam tried to focus on the shouting, to latch onto some voice, but maybe her adrenaline was crashing, and she realized for the first time how hungry she felt, the three people that stood in front of her were just blurs, and their words began to fade into a great, loud roar of water that was trying its hardest to drown her.

It was too dark to see. Too dark to hear.

She didn’t remember passing out.

\--

 

“--was too reckless. You could’ve gotten yourself killed.”

“But I didn’t!”

“You almost did! What would’ve happened to you if Victor didn’t go out there and save your skin, huh?”

“I’m not a _child,_ Josh! I can handle myself! Why don’t you ever treat Beth like this, huh? Why is it always me?”

“Because Beth’s careful!”

“Careful?! Funny, considering that’s coming from you!”

Sam wasn’t entirely sure of what was going on. There was a lot of yelling, that was certain, and something wet and cold was pressed against her forehead. Her legs were achy, throbbing. Her head felt like it was brimming with lead. She turned her head slightly, to focus on the room she was in. Four walls. Dark. The distinct smell of gasoline. She retched.

The shouting stopped, and the feeling of lead in her skull began to evaporate, and Sam continued to heave, hapless, a little thankful that her stomach was empty. She felt a hand touch her back, gently rubbing circles into her skin, giving her a little pat like they were burping a baby.

“Easy there, champ,” The voice was feminine, soft, and Sam’s head began to work again, her memory coming back in slow motion, letting her savor every moment from start to finish.  
Hannah. The flare gun. Running. Falling. The cabin.

The monster.

“Oh, God,” her words came out more like a wheeze, and she began to cough, working around the dryness in her throat. A water bottle was waved under her nose. She took it, drinking in earnest gulps. When she was done, Sam finally took a moment to gaze at the people crowding around her. Beth was sitting next to her, relief on her face, a hand gently lying on Sam’s arm, and Hannah was standing, her hands clasped into fists. Sam realized with a startle that her face was smeared with blood and dirt, and she was staring at Sam, eyes wide like a deer in headlights, mouth a thin line. There was an older man, standing further away, leaning against a wall near the back of the room, twisting off the cap of a flask. Then there was the boy, not much older than Sam, a grimace on his face and a butterfly knife in one hand. He wasn’t looking at her, instead at Hannah, flicking the knife around like it was no big deal. Sam forced herself to sit up.

“Calm down, Sam,” Beth was talking, her hands hovering around Sam’s shoulders, concern painted across her face. “You took a pretty hard fall.”

“I’m fine,” she managed, coughing. “I’m peachy.” She took a hard glance at everyone around the room, finally settling her gaze on the boy, who had stopped flicking around his knife and was giving her a cautious glare.

“Oh! Sam, this is, uh, our brother. Josh. And that’s Victor.” Hannah was speaking, pointing to the teen and then the old man, her grimace softening. Victor didn’t say anything.

Josh rolled his eyes, leaning down, holding out his hand to the blonde. She stared at it, then at his face, then back at his hand.

“Not gonna kill you,” Josh snorted.

She turned her direction to stare back up into his face, frown setting in, her hand shaky and beginning to hover towards him. He had a strong grip.

“Great! Formalities are over with.” Josh took a step back from the girl, turning to peer out a window, contemplative. “Sunrise’s in an hour.”

“Sunrise?” Sam failed to conceal the perplexion in her tone. “What’s important about that?”

“It means, Sunshine,” Josh spoke slow, not looking at her. “That you’ll go home and forget this whole thing happened.”

-

“What do you mean forget this whole thing happened?” Anger crept around the edge of her voice, and Josh finally turned around to stare at her. Her green eyes were wide, her brow furrowed, her hands balled into angry fists. Beth shifted next to her, uncomfortable, and Josh made eye contact with his sister.

_Don’t start shit,_ her eyes seemed to say.

_Too late for that,_ he signaled back.

“Listen-- Sam, right?”

Sam narrowed her eyes. Clearly not in the mood for conversation.

“Yeah, okay. Just go back to your cabin, get a good night’s rest, and forget about it.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“No.”

“No?” Josh couldn’t hide the surprise in his voice. Sam began to stand, her legs shaking, and Beth let out a cry, holding onto her to steady the girl. Hannah winced at the gesture, shying back, still silent. The blonde’s eyes glowered.

“Not until you explain everything.”

Josh turned to look at Victor, who was picking at dirt underneath his nails. The old man looked up, staring at Josh. He gave him a shrug. It was Josh’s call. That’s never happened before.

He turned back to stare at the blonde, who stood at around five feet, and for a second he felt a little bad about it. The wendigos, Victor, his sisters, himself. It wasn’t safe, not for people like Sam. Josh stretched an arm to scratch at the back of his head, contemplating. He sighed heavily.

“Simple enough, then. If you go out at night, you’re a delicious meal for wendigos.”

Sam let out a laugh. “Right. _Sure._ What the hell’s a wendigo?”

“A monster,” Hannah blurted. The room fell silent as all eyes landed on her. She frowned, twirling her hair between limber fingers. “They, uh, eat people.”

Josh couldn’t tell if Sam was buying it. She had placed her hands on her hips, eyebrows knit together, scrutinizing Hannah’s face. Josh felt his chest tightened. He hated how Hannah looked, the blood and mud caking her hair, her face, fresh bruises turning purple on her skin. How the hell were they going to let this slip by the folks? He couldn’t think of a good enough excuse.

Sam pursed her lips, then began to laugh.

“You all must think this is some funny fucking joke, right?”

He wasn’t expecting that.

“Listen, Blackwood’s fucking weird and there’s clearly some crazy, fucked up things going on here! But a monster? _That eats people?_ Did you think I’d buy that?” The laughter in her voice was fading away, being replaced by rage. Josh was expecting rage.

The blonde threw her hands up, her mouth a grin, but she was so easy to read, it was so easy to see how angry and fucked up she was over this. It wasn’t helping that the Washingtons were staring at her in bewilderment, unsure what to say, unsure what to tell her. It wasn’t as simple as calling it a prank and telling her it was bears or wolves or what have you. They knew better, and deep down, Sam knew better, too.

“Okay, you know what! Screw you. I’m going back to my cabin, and I’m going to take a hot bath, and I’m going to bed and you guys can take your made up little nightmares and kiss my ass.” She stomped her way over to the door, forcing the creaking, black wood open and crossing the threshold.

Josh wished he hadn’t spoken, but there was satisfaction in shouting, “Gladly!” at her. Hannah, on the other hand, had jumped up in distress, following the girl outside.

“Sam, wait! Wait up, please!” And the girl was chasing after her without a glance back.

Victor let out a low chuckle behind Josh, and he turned around to stare at the old man.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked, staring at him. Victor gave him a shrug.

“Wanted to see if you kids could handle telling others the truth.”

“Well, that worked out real fucking well, didn’t it?” Josh grumbled, walking to sit next to Beth on the couch. She didn’t look at him.

“You just didn’t handle that well, Josh.” She was quiet.

“I didn’t handle that well? You saw how she reacted, right? She thinks we’re damn nutso.”

“Maybe she doesn’t. She’s probably just stressed and scared. You know the feeling.”

He wished his sisters weren’t so smart, so empathetic. He let out a snort.

“Sure I do. Doesn’t mean she gets off easy for it.”

A wince. He felt a little bad.

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

“I know.”

They fell into silence, listening together for sounds of disturbance, sounds that were masked underneath the fragile facade of a peaceful mountain. They listened in, searching for the sounds of wails that pretended to be the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _yeesh._  
>  here's to hoping things start to look up! maybe? who knows! (me. i do. i know)  
> thank u guys for sticking around! ^u^


	5. Cherry Pies and Other Annoying Things The Washingtons Do

“Sam! Can you please just slow down a little?”

She quickened her pace. Hannah let out a groan, and Sam could hear the girl speeding up.

“Sam, come on. The sun’s not up yet. Please, please be a little careful.”

The brunette’s warnings began to bubble up again in her head, mocking her, taunting her. Sam grimaced, turning abruptly to face her. She felt sick, staring at Hannah, who looked much worse when she was in focus and not a blurry mess obstructed by a massive headache. Hannah blinked, outstretching her hands.

“Sam, please, please don’t say anything about what you saw, or what you--”

“I didn’t see anything, Hannah.” Sam lied. She hated lying, but the situation called for it. No one was going to believe her if she told them that there was something called a _wendigo_ up in the beautiful Canadian mountain range that killed and ate people. Because that made absolute sense. Because that would explain everything.

Wendigos.

Yeah, right.

“I know you think we’re…” Hannah bit her lip. “You know.”

_Whackjobs._ Sam waited for her to continue.

“But we were being serious, about it being dangerous up here at night. You know that you need to stay safe, right? If anything bad happened to you, I don’t know what I’d…”

“You barely know me.”

Hannah was really good at making Sam feel guilty with just a sad, doe-eyed glance. She swallowed.

“Sorry, Han. I didn’t… I didn’t mean it that way.”

“It’s okay. I get it. I’m just some weird girl you met in the woods and the second time you see her she’s,” She began to laugh. “She’s waving flare guns around and shooting at fake monsters and she’s all covered in blood. What a great first impression, right?”

Hannah was smiling at her, not the strange, fake one she used the first time she met, but something that rung of sadness, of naivety and genuine care. Sam couldn’t help but return it.

“I mean, you looked pretty cool. Like a character straight out of a movie.”

“Really? Think I could be the next Lara Croft?”

They began to laugh, and Sam began to walk again, this time slow, this time so Hannah could walk right beside her. The girl was running her hands through her hair, touching her cheeks, scrubbing at the blood and bruises on her face with her knuckles. Sam sighed.

“You look like an absolute hot mess.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Hannah stopped touching her face, a hand gingerly touching the pocket of her hoodie. Sam remembered the flares.

“So, wendigos.”

She felt the girl tense up.

“Yeah. Wendigos. Not the best welcoming committee.”

“Right up there with Sasquatch and Nessie, unless you’re about to tell me that those are real, too.”

Hannah didn’t say anything for a long moment, staring ahead. “We’re being serious, Sam.”

“So am I. Wendigos aren’t real.”

“Then what do you think that was?” Hannah’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Caribou?”

“Sure. Caribou. I’ll believe that before I believe in wendigos.”

“I know you want to but you can’t possibly think that’s all it was.”

Sam decided she didn’t like Hannah, or Beth, or Josh, or the old man that stood quietly in the corner. They were unreasonable, dangerous people. She heaved a sigh as her cabin came into view.

“Oh look, home sweet home.” She twisted her head to look at Hannah, whose smile was fake again, and Sam felt her heart take a nosedive.

“You can handle the walk from here?” Hannah asked.

“I’m very capable of walking, Hannah. Thanks.”

She began to skip forward, moving quicker towards the dark cabin. Hannah called out from behind her.

“Sam! Hold on.”

Hannah had followed her down, her expression unreadable, uncertain. She tilted her head to one side, and Sam noticed the purpling of bruises on her face, the scabs that had formed, and she wanted to ask the girl if she was okay, if she was in pain, but there was no point to coddling her now. Hannah nodded her head, slowly.

“Don’t…” She hesitated. “Don’t be scared, okay? We know what we’re doing.”

A pause. Sam gave her a curt nod.

“Take care, Hannah.”

Sam turned away again, walking faster to the cabin, not waiting for an answer.

\--

She was relieved to see that her parents had gone to bed long before Sam arrived. The cabin was silent, and Sam missed the sounds of her friends’ voices, their laughter, the television blaring obnoxiously serving as backdrop to their conversations. She rolled her shoulders, feeling them ring out in protest. Yikes. She figured she wasn’t that poorly injured, but the aches and pains she felt in her bones seemed to have another idea.

Sam fumbled in the dark a moment, finding her way to the tiny cabin bathroom and flicking on the light. She took a glance at herself in the mirror, and almost shut the lights back off and bolted into bed.

She looked like she just got back from one of Jess’s parties where they secretly smuggled in wine coolers and acted like they were gonna get so fucked up. Sam grimaced, picking pine needles out of her hair and inspecting her hands, which were scraped up at the palms, probably from when she tried to stop her fall in the trail, and to her utter disappointment her carefully manicured nails had been chipped. Sam made a mental note to touch up the polish at a later date.

After careful deliberation and deciding that a bath could wait but washing her face could not, she returned to the living room, readjusting her eyes to the dark. A creak made her jump.

Sam never hated the dark before, but now it was just foreboding and terrible.

She flopped backwards onto the couch, sinking into the soft cushions, her achy muscles sighing blissfully.

She tried to remember what had happened before everything went dark, combing through her memories for some indication of normalcy, for some sign that the past few hours were not actually real.

Nothing.

Sam decided not to trust herself. She stood despite the pains in her body, checking herself for her cell phone. The clock on it's face told her it was a few minutes past five. Her parents wouldn’t be up for another two hours, and Sam was too bothered to sleep.

Sam entertained the words the siblings had left her before she hurried on back through the woods to continue enjoying her stay at Blackwood.

_Forget this ever happened. Don’t tell anyone._

Sam had no interest in keeping such promises.

She steeled herself, then stepped outside the cabin.

To be fair, Sam didn’t know what to expect when she found herself on her porch. The sky was lightening, tinted a frosty pink fading into a powdery blue. The woods were, for the most part, still. She faced the path pointing northwards, to the cabin, to the wendigo.

Sam headed south towards the mart.

The mart was open, and Sam appreciated the early morning service the building offered, but she wasn’t interested in a breakfast run but more so their connection to the outside world. She pulled up her list of contacts, pressing the second name in her recents, forgetting for a moment how long a flight from Alberta was to Los Angeles.

“What the hell, Sam?”

Sam let out a relieved sigh.

“Good morning, Chris! How was your flight?”

“Terrible, mostly. Ash and I attempted to join the Mile High Club, but fate intervened and we hit turbulence before anything fun. The Fates are cruel, I tell ya.”

A muffled protest came from Chris’s end, and he began to laugh.

“Joking, Ash!” then to Sam, “Ash wants me to let you know I was just being a douche. You know, the usual.”

“That’s, uh, fantastic to hear. Thanks.”

A pause.

“Jeez, Sam, that’s all? I was hoping for a little more sass. Zero out of ten.”

“Sorry, a little distracted.” Sam appreciated Chris and his brevity, his kindness and honest intentions. The boy could be a goof, but he was a good goof and Sam’s go-to for a pick-me-up. She wasn’t sure, then, if she wanted a pick-me-up from Chris, not when the wind picked up and “it’s just the wind!” taunted in her head. Sam steadied herself against one of the porch railings of the mart. Chris’s tone was different over the line.

“Sam? Everything okay over there?”

She wanted to lie. But Sam hated lying.

“No. Not entirely. It’s a long fucking story. You sure you wanna hear it?”

“Tell Daddy everything, Samantha.”

_“Ew._ Please don't call yourself that ever again.”

But Sam did tell him everything, backtracking as far as her first encounter with Hannah, to the cabin, to the siblings, to the wendigos, to talking about her decision to call. Chris didn’t interrupt, waiting patiently for Sam to finish her piece.

“And that was when I called you. Yeah.”

“Alright, so before I go on, how drunk are you right now?”

“Believe me, I _wish_ I was drunk. Taking all of this in while sober was a shitty idea. You don’t think I’m, like, crazy, do you?”

“Sam, come on. That sounds like a regular Tuesday night. I think, though, you need some sleep.”

Sam stifled a yawn. “I told you that there’s a monster called a wendigo on the mountain and all you have to say is, ‘I think you need some sleep?’”

There was a sigh on the other end, then Chris came back full force in his most surprised voice.

“Gee wilickers, Samantha! Wendigos?! And I thought _I_ was the wacky one! Hyuk.”

“Your little ‘hyuk’ needs more gusto.”

“And _you_ need to get your butt in bed. You sound like shit. Call me when you’re well rested and less disoriented so we can really talk in depth about wendigos or something.”

“Bye, Chris.”

“I mean it, Sam.”

She hung up, leaning her head back with a sigh. She needed that.

“Your boyfriend sounds like a total knob.”

Sam jumped, turning to the speaker, surprised to find the boy from the cabin standing next to her, a brown paper bag in his hands. His face was stoic, and Sam almost applauded him on the clean delivery of his line. Instead, she stared at him, and he stared back, clearing his throat before speaking again.

“This is kind of the part where you look down, embarrassed, declare he’s just a friend, and we delve into poorly written flirtation and awkward eye contact and batting lashes.”

Sam sincerely wanted to punch Josh in the face. At least once.

“I-- uh. He’s really not.”

Josh let out a snort, digging into the paper bag. “Eeyeah, and you are _definitely_ not getting the lead role in the rom-com about us.”

“I really feel like this is more of a horror flick.”

“Yeesh. My game’s not usually this bad.”

Sam relaxed her shoulders, staring at him, surprised at the calmness of his tone. “You didn’t have game to begin with.”

He chuckled, reaching into the bag and drawing out a pre-packaged cherry pie, the bright red wrapper crinkling between his fingers. He stuck it out to Sam, his face still placid. Sam took it as a peace offering. There was something annoying about the exchange, perhaps the mundanity of it, and Sam racked her brain for some kind of indication that she and Josh should be conversing like this. An hour ago, he held a knife in those hands and poison in his words. Now, he was handing her cherry pies and tossing out bad pickup lines.

“Good morning, by the way.” He was fishing in his bag of purchases again, drawing out a second pie, breaking open the packaging and sticking it in his mouth.

“Same to you.” Sam stared at the cartoon cherry on the wrapper. It had a big grin on its stupid fake visage, a pair of sunglasses sitting on its eyes. She grimaced at it.

“I always like mornings like this. Summer’s great up here, you know?” Josh was talking around a mouthful of pie. “Not too hot, not cold. How about you?”

“What are you trying to do, Josh?” She suddenly exclaimed, twisting her face to glare at his profile as the boy continued to munch on his snack. “Are you just mocking me or what?”

Josh swallowed, still not facing her.

“I thought I told you to go back to your cabin. And Hannah told me she asked you to keep quiet.”

Shoot.

“I did. Then I left again, and that ‘sworn to silence’ thing’s not really me.” Josh gave her a sideways glance, quirking a brow, the corners of his lips beginning to rise.

“Really? Guess we can’t develop a secret relationship and elope together at the end of summer. You’re probably gonna blab about us to your boyfriend and my sisters, then we’d _have_ to have a wedding.”

She refused to give Josh the satisfaction of knowing he made her smile. She screwed her lips together, still glaring, which made the boy grin wider.

“Aww, you’re already practicing for me. I was thinking we could honeymoon in Spain.”

“I swear to God, I’m going to knock you into next week.”

Josh gave her a shrug, turning to unwrap more of the pie. “Alright, _Sammy._ I’ll cool it.”

“Woah there,” Sam began to squeeze the food in her hands, feeling the sticky jam ooze out from the pastry. “You do _not_ call me Sammy. I’m not a little girl.”

“Roger that, Sammy.”

He shoved the rest of his pie in his mouth, launching himself gracefully over the porch railing, maintaining his stupid, cheeky grin the entire way. He gave Sam a two fingered salute, walking backwards onto the trail that led to the main cabin. Sam opened her mouth to say something, but Josh spoke first around a mouthful of cherry filling.

“You should probably get some rest. You look like shit.”

And with that, Josh Washington turned down the trail, and for the most part, Sam despised him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!!  
> sorry for the super long wait for this chapter!!! it was p much done but then i was out of town at a journalism convention for a week and didn't have access to internet so i could upload!!!!  
> things are turning... somewhere! stay tuned, probably


	6. Meetings of Various Sorts, from Familial to Potentially Terrible

Sneaking into the lodge was usually pretty easy for Josh. All he had to do was climb in through one of the windows in the back and up the stairs without making a sound. The parentals were usually not sneaking around the house either, Dad was in his office most of the time doing whatever hot horror movie producers do best in their offices and his mother was in the kitchen cooking or watching some dramas on television.

He didn’t expect his mom to be waiting for him near the window, her arms crossed, hip popped, her eyebrows scrunched up and her lip jutting out in an angry pout, fire growing in her dark brown eyes.

“Joshua.”

“Good morning, the most beautiful and lovely mother in the entire world,” Josh hoped he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt as he moved forward, leaning down to press a kiss to his mother’s cheek. This was not part of the plan, ever. His mind flicked back to Hannah and her awful condition, and he sent a silent prayer that their poor, worrisome mother didn’t see her bruises or the blood or anything else that would hint that her precious angels were in any kind of danger. Mrs. Washington let out a bitter sigh.

“Good morning. Where were you? What’s in the bag?”

“Just at the mart. Bought pies for myself. Delanie says hi.”

Her nose scrunched up. “She isn’t making trouble again, right?”

Josh almost forgot about the Great Fireworks Fiasco of 2013, and he bit back a laugh as he shook his head. “Nah. She’s more into drag racing these days. Too bad you can’t drag race snowmobiles in the summer.”

Mrs. Washington heaved another sigh, leaning back to stare at Josh square in the face.

“Right, right. Joshua, we need to have a talk.”

He braced himself for some lecture about keeping Hannah and Beth out of trouble, but after watching the fire leaving his mother’s eyes and being replaced with the slightest inklings of sadness, he realized that she wanted to talk about something more dire than the safety of his sisters.

“Dr. Hill called.”

Josh bit his lip.

“Did he? What’s he diagnosing me with this time?” He began to turn away but stopped, feeling his mom’s hand grab at his wrist, squeezing it gently.

“Are you okay, babe? He said you haven’t called him in a couple of weeks. Are you--”

“I’m taking my meds, Mom. He’s got nothing to worry about, okay? I’m fine.”

She released the grip she had on him, and the sniffling sounds she made made his chest ache, and he turned around to give her a sheepish grin and a reassuring hug.

“Is that all?” Josh gave her a gentle pat. She always was so worried about him, about his safety. His mother nodded, slow.

“For now. I’m just worried about you, is all. You sleep in so much, and you sneak in and out of the house, and the girls…”

“Are fine. We’re all okay, Mom. Don’t make yourself sick over me, okay? I’ve done enough for the both of us.”

Mrs. Washington frowned at him, peering into his face for some sign of sickness, some sign that he was still fucked up, and even though he was she didn’t seem to read too far into his appearance. She gave his arm a gentle pat.

“Next time, Joshua, please use the front door. I’m getting tired of wiping your footprints off the windowsill.”

“Yeah, I’ll probably keep that in mind.”

He bolted from her presence, taking the stairs two steps at a time. He rapt against the door of Beth’s room, barging in without waiting for an answer. She was sprawled across her bed, a Jules Verne novel in her hands. Beth glared at him.

“Don’t you ever wait?”

“Waiting’s for people that have time.” He tossed the mart bag onto her bed, the little pies and donuts spilling out over her covers. Beth sat up, slapping the book closed, touching a hand to her bangs and giving them a slight tug.

“Alright, Speedy. You look like you’re going to be sick.”

“More sick than I already am? Sounds impossible.”

She glared at him in the same fashion their mother had. Beth got that look from her.

“Come on, Bethy-boo. I’m just _Joshin’_ ya.”

“Loser. Take a seat. Tell ol’ Bethy-boo what’s eating at ya.”

Josh accepted his sister’s invitation, flopping onto the bed next to her, not speaking for a moment.

“Okay, change of plans, Beth. Get Hannah. Family meeting.”

He heard his sister groan but she didn’t complain, rolling out of the bed and leaving her room, and he listened to the muffled knocking and whispering, and when he looked up again Hannah was standing over him and Beth had returned to her spot on the bed. She looked terrible, Josh noted, and although Hannah’s make-up skills were horrifically impressive, there was no way to hide the tired, unsettled look in her eyes or the stiffness in her posture.

“Family meeting.” Hannah had mumbled, and Josh felt God-awful sorry that he roped her into it, listening to the croak in her voice, the sleepy bitterness in her tone. His mind flicked back to the night before, remembering how angry and hurt he had felt, yelling at Hannah, feeling nothing but fear and anger inside of him at the time. He regretted it, first and foremost. He regretted not apologizing to her, either.

_She has to learn one way or another, right? Right._

The thought made him feel worse.

“Yeah. Sorry, Han. Wanna lay down?” He indicated the free spot on the bed next to him, and she nodded, sitting down slowly before lying down next to Josh, wrapping her arms around herself, legs curled up. Beth stared down at the both of them from her criss-crossed position at the foot of the bed. None of them spoke for a good long while. Eventually, Josh broke the silence.

“I saw that girl, Sam, this morning at the mart.”

“Bright and early, huh?” Beth said, and Josh could hear the crinkle of a wrapper.

“Yeah. She was talking to someone on the phone. Didn’t hear all of the conversation, but she’s definitely stubborn. Doesn’t listen, either.”

They fell silent again.

“She hates us, doesn’t she?” Hannah’s voice was hoarse, a sad, wet croak that crumbled the peace in the room. Josh turned his head to stare at her, unsurprised to see tears forming in her dark eyes.

“You can’t win them all, Han.”

“Do you think she believes in them? The… you know?”

Josh bit his lip, giving her arm a pat, then a squeeze.

“I don’t know. I hope not. It’s easier that way.”

Beth groaned, frustration icing her words.

“It’s easier that way, it’s easier this way! No. Fuck that. Nothing’s ever easy. I’d rather let every damn person on this mountain get chewed up by wendigos than have to live some shitty double life saving them every night.”

Hannah had sat up abruptly, staring at Beth, her eyes widening.

_“Beth!”_

“What? I’m being honest, Han. I’m sick and tired of monsters and staying up all night and fire and trying to stay alive--”

“We’re doing something worthwhile! Don’t you feel even a little bit proud of yourself?”

“I’ll tell you what I feel, Hannah. I feel scared, I feel like a damn outcast. When my friends ask me what I did over the summer, what the fuck am I supposed to say? My brother, sister, and I saved a bunch of idiots from being wendigo bait?”

“Both of you, calm down.” Josh raised his voice before Hannah could respond, and the bespectacled twin clamped her mouth shut, hurt in her eyes. Beth twisted her head away from them, tugging at her hair. “Jesus. You guys are so childish.”

Beth scoffed, her voice barely a whisper.

“You don’t think it’s just the slightest bit crazy, Josh?”

Hannah retorted.

“We’re helping people, Joshua. We’re being heroes.”

He suddenly imagined Hannah with a bright, golden halo on her head, white fluffy wings sprouting from her shoulder blades while Beth wore dark red horns and a flicking, fiery tail. Both were tiny. Both were sitting on either of his shoulders, shouting back and forth. For a moment the image was funny, but Josh extinguished it as quickly as he could.

“Mom said Dr. Hill called today,” Josh changed the subject. He could feel both of the girls tense up, neither speaking. “I apparently have to have a nice, long chat with the old man.”

“Dr. Hill’s a creep.” Hannah mumbled. It was her turn to reassure Josh, squeezing his arm gently.

“He reminds me of that old white hack that hangs out near the reservation, you know? The one that always freaks Grandma out when we drive by the gas station?” Beth had started to look at them again.

“Are you suggesting that Dr. Alan Hill is a white supremacist that talks shit at natives?” Josh began to laugh at her.

“Uh, duh.”

Hannah broke into a grin. “Remember when Uncle Rory chased those teens off his property with his flippin’ shotgun? We were like, ten.”

Beth grinned back at her. “Yeah, oh my God. Mom was so mad at him for having guns out around us. She totally thought Josh was gonna blow our brains out.”

“Hey, don’t act like eleven year old me wouldn’t have done that.”

The three began to laugh and joke around, talking about their grandmother and the old white hack at the gas station, the things they used to do as kids, munching on crappy one dollar pies and donut holes, and Josh stopped thinking about Dr. Alan Hill, and his prescriptions, and the night and the wendigos. He was still sick and weird, as far as he felt he was concerned, and although he’d never admit it, his younger twin sisters did a pretty damn good job at making him feel normal.

\--

“Samantha, honey, wake up. You slept through breakfast, and there is no way I’m letting my daughter miss lunch, too.”

Sam grunted in response, kicking her leg at the hand that was shaking her foot earnestly. A sigh.

“Really, Sam? Get up, already! We have a trail to blaze.”

She turned around to stare at her mother, who was scrutinizing her over her sunglasses. Sam blinked the sleep out of her eyes, looking around. She didn’t remember passing out on the couch. Come to think of it, she didn’t even remember walking back to the cabin.

Sam let out a groan.

“Groan all you want, young lady. Veggie wraps in the fridge. Up, up.”

“I’m up,” Sam managed after a moment, sitting up and rolling her shoulders, rubbing at the crick in her neck. “Jeez. I don’t think I want to hike today.”

“You don’t want to hike?” Mrs. O’Donnell did a shoddy job of hiding her surprise.

“Not feeling it, I guess. Sorry, Mom. I know how much you like hiking.”

“Oh, but I was going to introduce you to the lodge owners. Dad and I met them a few days ago, really lovely people. They have some kids your age! You could be hiking buddies.”

Sam resisted the urge to barf at the suggestion. As if she needed to deal with anyone else on this Godforsaken mountain.

“Really, Mom. I’m just kind of tired. Tell the owners, uh, thanks, but I’ll be taking a rain check on their bonding offer.”

Her mother was silent for a moment, before leaning over and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Are you not feeling well, Sam?”

“Something like that.” Sam avoided the older woman’s gaze. Her mom patted her shoulder.

“If anything’s bothering you, I’m always here to talk, honey.”

Sam winced at the words, shaking her head. Like her mother would really understand the nightmares of Blackwood. “Thanks. You and Dad should hit the trail.”

“Rest up, kid! We’ll get you out of this musty old cabin eventually. A good hike never hurt anybody.”

“A good hike never hurt anybody,” Sam echoed, waving to her parents as they gathered their gear and left. She let out a sigh, taking in the interior. Sam valued the solitude of the mountain, most of the time. She liked being by herself, she liked the sense of freedom she had, the ability to do whatever she wanted.

But it didn’t feel right, it didn’t feel safe.

She shuddered, laying back down into the scratchy woven couch cushions, closing her eyes. Napping would bury wendigos under a protective layer of sleep. Napping would make her momentarily forget what lies towards the north.

 

It was dark when she woke up, listening in towards bits of conversation coming from the tiny cabin kitchen, shadows moving boisterously about the room.

“A gold medalist runner? You two must be so proud of her.”

“We are. And one of your girls plays tennis?”

“Yes! She’s a prodigy, we’re sure of it. The next greatest tennis player--”

Sam drifted back to sleep.

 

A week passed by in this pattern. Sam’s mom often pestered her about getting fresh air, and although Sam appreciated her concern, she didn’t find herself in the mood for hiking, or climbing, or anything of the sort. She slept a lot, in her cabin bedroom mostly, more than Sam would’ve liked to admit to. Maybe it was the withdrawal from sunny, smoggy L.A. Maybe it was the screams she heard when the sun dipped below the mountains. Maybe it was the yellow, blood dripping fangs that woke her up in the middle of the night.

Sam didn’t appreciate Blackwood, or its perfect mountains, or its Joshes and Beths and Hannahs, or its wendigos or its winds or its dark or its north.

She did, however, appreciate the sleep it brought her. It was, if anything, a good place to dream.

 

She wasn’t sure when she woke up fully again, but she was very aware of her mother’s voice in her ear and the sun filtering through the cabin windows. Daytime, at least.

“Sam, honey, you’ve done nothing but sleep and relax for the past week and a half. You need to get outside. Absorb the sunlight.” Her mother’s voice ached in concern. Sam forced herself to sit up in bed out of pity. She stared at the old woman, whose whole demeanor seemed to change when the blonde showed signs of life.

“Good morning, dear. Breakfast? I can whip you up a protein power smoothie.”

Sam nodded, slowly, carefully. After her mother left the room she felt obligated to shower, changing into fresh clothes good enough for a hike. Sam figured she owed her mom one morning hike. Or a few. She shuffled into the kitchen, surprised to have a glass of the smoothie shoved into her hands.

“I’m so glad you’re going to hike with us all, today. You’re going to love the lodge owners-- the Washingtons, can you believe it? Bob Washington, the famous horror film director! I couldn’t believe it. I still can’t believe it…”

Sam tuned her out, sipping at the bland drink, contemplating. A hike didn’t hurt anybody. Besides, she liked to hike, and there was a bonus of meeting new people and making new friendships. The pros outweighed the cons, kind of.

After an hour or so, Sam and her parents bustled out of the cabin and towards a path. Sam spent most of the trek out not paying attention to her parents’ discussion about coming to Blackwood for the holidays or inviting the mysterious Washingtons over for Thanksgiving dinner.

“Oh, Sam! You’re going to love their kids, they’re all so funny and interesting! They’re so knowledgeable about films, so cultured and athletic…”

Sam tried to ignore her mother’s gushing, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Wait a second, Mom. Am I not cultured or athletic enough?”

“Samantha! You know that’s not what I-- oh, there they are! Bob! Melinda!” Sam watched her mother wave down a group of five that stood further up the trail. The man in front waved back, and the group began to make their way down.

Maybe coincidences happened for a reason, or maybe they were just nature’s cruel way of punishing Sam. Either way, it took her a single second to recognize the faces of the cultured and athletic Washington kids, and only two seconds to start putting the pieces together.

Sam really wished she had stayed inside.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!


	7. The Fine Line Between True and False is Blocked by a Word that Begins with ‘W’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *high fives myself for uploading 3 chapters within a period of 3 days*

“Bob, Melinda, this is our daughter Samantha.”

Sam almost forgot about Mr. and Mrs. Washington, staring at the kids, who stared right back at her, horror in their faces. Hannah looked like she was ready to run away, Beth’s expression was shock, mostly, but it was Josh’s face that made Sam cringe. He looked as venomous as he had in their first encounter, any sign of joy or goodhearted fun nonexistent in his face. He had shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his vest.

“Samantha. It’s great to finally meet you.” Bob Washington had extended a hand to her, which Sam took in silence. He looked kind, tired. Melinda was the same way, polite in shaking her hand, but still kind, still tired, her dark eyes searching Sam’s for something she didn’t know was there. Bob extended a hand to indicate his kids.

“Samantha, meet Joshua, Hannah, and Beth. I’m sure you four will get along well.”

Sam hated the way Mr. Bob Washington spoke. It was too polite, too proper, too fake. That probably ran in the family, making up a false identity to pretend to be people they were not. It kind of pissed her off. She dared a look at the trio, who stood uncomfortable beneath her scrutiny, and Sam grinned at them, hoping she looked more like a shark and less like another uncomfortable teen.

“We’ll get along _swimmingly,_ Mr. Washington. Thanks.”

Satisfied, the parents began to talk to each other about the latest news, heading down the trail, leaving Sam and the Washington siblings at the foot of it in silence. Sam continued to grin at them, not saying anything while they gathered up their things, following after at the speed of molasses. After a moment, Josh spoke.

“Are you gonna shred into us yet or what, Sammy?”

“Sorry, what was that?”

Josh sped up his pace, walking ahead of her, the twins trailing behind Sam.

He spoke low over his shoulder.

“You can’t say anything, Sam.”

“Say anything about what?”

Hannah spoke next. “You know what. Mom and Dad, they can’t know about it.”

Sam stopped, causing Hannah to bump into her. Josh stopped too, turning back to stare at her.

“You mean your parents don’t know about the…” She stopped herself. It was a little too soon to betray everything she ever knew. It was a little too soon to come to terms with the possible truth. Sam hated lies, hated hearing made up stories to conceal what was real-- but at the same time, Sam wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to hear the truth, wanted to believe in it.

It was a little too much to take in. But the Washingtons either didn’t catch her apprehensiveness towards the subject, or maybe they didn’t want to, because the one word that Sam was dreading came in Josh’s hushed tones, the one word that stood fragile on the scale that balanced the real and the fake.

“Wendigos. They don’t know.”

Sam swallowed around the knot forming in her throat. She gave him a quizzical look, unable to read his face from staring at the back of his head. “Wendigos” still didn’t make sense. “Wendigos” still didn’t answer all of her questions.

“I don’t understand.” She said flatly.

“We’re Native American,” Beth was speaking next, not looking at Sam, her fingers curled around locks of dark hair. “Cree. We grew up hearing stories about wendigos and all that whenever we went up to the reservation for summer and stuff. Thought it was all legends used to scare kids into staying in bed all night.”

Josh scoffed. “Imagine our surprise, right? Wendigos. What the actual fuck.”

Sam blinked at them. “Wendigos aren’t _real.”_

“Bullshit, Sammy.” Josh was more insistent in his words, stopping and turning around fully to glare at her. “I _know_ you saw what was up there. What do you _think_ that thing was?”

Sam glared at the boy, angry at him for the childish way he acted, angry that she couldn’t come up with a better, more logical answer. She was trying for the past week and a half to avoid explaining whatever that thing was that night. Sam just knew that it wasn’t the wind, or a wolf, or a bear. It was something that reached far beyond her understanding of the world, and that was never clear to Sam before now, before facing off against the stubbornness of the mysterious Washington siblings and their mysterious activities that occurred under the shroud of darkness. It was frustrating, not being able to be logical about it. It was infuriating, not being able to believe her own eyes. Sam began to open her mouth to speak.

A shout from her father came from further up the path, simultaneously saving her and damning her.

“You kids okay back there?”

“We’re fine, Mr. O’Donnell, thanks!” Hannah offered. “We’re just taking a little breather. We’ll catch up!”

“Alright, but don’t be too slow! Stick to the path!”

They waited a few moments before walking again, keeping their voices low.

_“I don’t know,_ okay? I don’t know what I fucking saw. Satisfied?” Sam muttered.

Josh snorted again, not looking at Sam but instead at the trail. “Are _you_ satisfied, Sam? Satisfied that you don’t know?”

“I’m not. I want to know.”

“Perfect. The Washingtons are here to help. What would you like to know?” He was a little too chipper about it, but Sam didn’t see any reason to complain, not when she was this close to having some inkling of an explanation, real or not real.

She bit her lip, flicking her eyes between him and the twins, who gave her identical, sympathetic smiles. They were infuriating.

“Okay. Let’s start off with an easy one. Tell me what wendigos are.”

“Cree legends say that wendigos used to be human,” Hannah said after a moment. “Humans that fell to cannibalism, succumbing to temptation, succumbing to demons. Both personal and, uh, external. That’s kind of the basis of it. If you’re a human and eat another human up here, you turn into a wendigo. Boom.”

Sam didn’t respond, and Hannah took that as cue to keep talking.

“They hunt at night, you know. Most of them live up higher in the mountains, feeding on caribou and wolves and whatever. But they really crave our flesh.”

“Like zombies,” said Sam.

Josh began to laugh. “Believe me, I wish they were like zombies. Those sons of bitches would be miles easier to kill than wendigos. They’re like spiders. And fast as hell, too.”

Beth nodded in agreement. “They’re not just legends, Sam. They’re dangerous, and they’ll kill as soon as they’re given the chance to.”

“If they’re so dangerous, why do you guys mess with them?”

“We aren’t messing with them, Sam,” Hannah stated simply. “We’re hunting them. We’re trying to stop the wendigos from getting close to the resort.”

“And you’re not scared of, I dunno, dying?”

“Job perks.” Josh remarked from the front. “All in a day’s work to keep people like you out of danger.”

“I’m going to ignore that comment.”

“Sure, Sunshine. Any more questions?”

“Plenty. For one, why the hell are you hiding this from your parents? They can probably help right? Legend knowledge or something?”

“First of all, Sammy, that was the whitest thing I have ever heard anyone say about the supernatural. Second of all, have you tried telling your parents that there’s wendigos in Blackwood?”

Sam reluctantly admitted to not having told her parents about wendigos. They walked on.

“Okay, last question. For now,” Sam spoke softly, keeping watch on the adults on the path in front of them. “Who’s the old guy you guys were with at the cabin?”

“You mean Victor? He’s a seasoned wendigo hunter. Taught us pretty much all we know about hunting them, is all.” Josh said.

“How do you hunt wendigos?”

“Hey, you said Victor was your last question.”

_“How do you hunt wendigos, Josh?”_

Josh hesitated for a second. “Fire, to kill them. Not recommended. Technically, there’s only one wendigo that we’re really looking to kill and that’s--”

“Josh.” Hannah and Beth both hissed. Sam and Josh turned to face them, and Josh’s face paled.

“Right. Sorry, Sammy. I’m afraid you’ve reached the end of your trial period of ‘Hunting Wendigos with Josh and the Twins.’ Can’t really divulge much else.”

Sam glared at the back of his head, leaning forward and pulling his arm back, forcing the boy to face her. Hannah started to say something, but the blonde raised a hand at the girl, who shrank back in response. Beth took a cautious step forward.

“Your grip is incredible,” Josh said in admiration. Sam continued to glare.

“What aren’t you guys telling me?” She demanded. The twins exchanged glances, and Beth spoke up.

“Sam, really. It’s nothing for you to worry about. What you know is more than enough for any other person to know.”

She swiveled her glare onto the brunette, who was unfazed by the motion, her eyebrows knit, dark eyes glistening in challenge against the late morning light. The two stared each other down, Sam’s grip still tight around Josh’s wrists, Beth casually leaning backwards, crossing her arms over herself as she stood protectively in front of Hannah, who was chewing on her thumbnail as she watched the stand-off. No one spoke, no one moved, the only signs of life around them the distant chatter of their parents and the gentle singing of the birds above them.

Finally, Sam broke the silence.

“Fine. I concede. You don’t have to tell me.” She released her grasp on the boy, who lifted his arms close to his face, inspecting the nail impressions she left in his wrists, rubbing at them. “But I still want to know something.”

“What more do you need to know?” Beth demanded, and Sam could hear the sharpness in the way she spoke, the authoritative tone she took on.

“How many wendigos are in these mountains?”

The brunette softened, one arm rising to tug at her hair, steely eyes that bore holes into Sam now flicking away to inspect the forest around them.

“Too many.”

She surged forwards past the blonde and the boy and her twin. Josh heaved a sigh, scurrying to catch up to her, and Sam watched them nudge each other and lean in close to speak in hushed whispers away from Sam and Hannah. Eventually, she turned her gaze to the other brunette, who wasn’t looking at her but instead was focusing all her attention on braiding her hair.

“Your siblings are kind of assholes,” Sam said after a moment. Hannah looked up at her, giving her a sheepish smile.

“They’re good people, Sam. Josh can be kind of a hard ass, and Beth is pretty stubborn, but they’re good people.”

“Not really leaving a great impression on me.”

Hannah let herself giggle, and Sam gave her an apologetic smile as the two walked forward far behind the others.

“Try growing up with them. When Beth and I were younger, at our eighth birthday party, Josh pulled this prank on us where one of our joint gifts was actually a stink bomb ready to detonate. We had to sit in the bath for, like, hours, and Josh had to clean up the mess all by himself.”

“Yikes. Glad I’m not you.”

“Not even the worst of it. There’s not really privacy when you have a twin, you know? When we were in high school, Beth was always snooping and trying to find out the names of anyone I had a crush on and she and Josh always tried to set me up with them. It was so embarrassing.”

Sam turned to look at Hannah’s face, surprised to see her smiling faintly in reminiscent. Hannah let out a laugh.

“I mean, it was nice that they were trying for me. But I guess I saw my first real romance to be something spectacular, you know?”

_“Stargirl_ spectacular?”

Hannah’s eyes widened, her cheeks flushing as she turned to look at Sam. “Shut up, ohmygod. You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Hey, you’re the one that made the password.”

The two girls grinned at each other before bursting into quiet giggles, their pace quickening as Hannah broke into a tangent about why she picked Stargirl as the password, why she liked the book and others like it, in which Sam interrupted her sometimes to say why they were cheesy or predictable, until Hannah finally shut her up when they both agreed that The Princess Diaries won overall in the subject of Cheesy Romantic YA Books, and Sam finally admitted to herself that Hannah wasn’t like her hard ass brother or stubborn twin sister. She was kind and idealistic and Sam admired her for being all the things she didn’t really have in herself. And Hannah admired Sam for being all the things she didn’t have in her, from the confident way she spoke to the courage that pumped through her veins.

“Hey, Hannah, Sammy!” Josh had shouted from the crest of the next hill, interrupting a heated debate between the two girls over whether or not the Twilight series deserved a five-movie installment or not. “We’re taking a lunch break. Eating out.”

“Poor choice of words, Washington,” Sam shouted back.

A glint shone in the boy’s eyes and his mouth widened in a giddy grin. “Why? Offering me the first bite?”

Beth’s head popped up over the hill, eyes wide. “Josh! _Er-hey arents-pay are-yay ight-ray ere-hey.”_

He gave his sister a tired look. _“Really?_ You’re a Linguistics major and you give me Pig Latin to work with? For shame.”

Beth stepped up to be level with him, clocking him in the arm.

“Idiot,” she grumbled before descending the trail again while Josh stood still at the crest, laughing after her, waiting for Sam and Hannah to climb up to meet him.

“Everything okay?” Sam asked him pointedly. He shot her another grin.

“Absolutely. We should take our meal for two now though before your parents get mad at me.”

Sam scrunched up her nose. “Sorry, not really in the mood for shitty flirts with a side of sexual favors. Maybe later?”

He shrugged. “I have a pretty good memory, Sam. I’m holding you to this.”

“Charming.”

Hannah gently touched Sam’s elbow, giving her a friendly, parting goodbye look as she descended the hill towards the little lunch spot the adults and Beth were already reclining at. Sam and Josh stood a lengths apart from each other, staring down the trail at the group in silence.

“You know what, Josh?” Sam said, not looking at him but at the chattering group.

“Yeah, Sammy?”

She cringed. “Stop calling me that, for one thing,” A pause. “Also, you guys are different.”

He let out a laugh next to her, and Sam wished for the moment she could pry his skull open and pick it apart to see what he was really thinking, really feeling, who Josh Washington really was inside.

“A good different or bad different?”

“Good different, I think. I still don’t think I believe in wendigos, or that you’re really some mysterious badass because you definitely don’t act like one the entire time.”

“Pause right there. You think I’m a mysterious badass?”

“Sure, when it was four in the morning and you were waving around a knife like no big deal.”

“Fuck yes. And here I thought I wasn’t intimidating enough.”

“You really aren’t.”

She let herself smile that time, turning slightly to face him to find him still grinning at her too. It was nice, in a way, to see that Josh Washington wasn’t a mysterious badass, but to see that he was kind of human, kind of weird, kind of normal. It wasn’t a bad look on him.

“You know what, Sammy?” Josh said after a few seconds.

“What?”

“You’re a pretty good different, too. I mean, I respect _anyone_ that can piss off Beth and make Hannah laugh, because both of those are my jobs.”

She punched him and he snorted.

“Also, you’re fucking strong. Total turn-on.”

“Gross.”

Josh’s eyes glittered in amusement. “In all seriousness, I just want to make sure we’re cool. Just so I can sleep easier at night knowing that you probably won’t get killed by a wendigo any time soon.”

“Oh, you really think I’m going to listen to your little warnings still?”

His face fell for a second, and Sam snorted, shoving him again.

“Kidding, dummy. Yes, we’re cool and yes, you can get a good night’s sleep because screw wendigos. Hard.”

“Up the ass?”  
“Hard up the ass with no lube, Washington. You’ve got my word.”

And Sam meant it, kind of. And she appreciated Josh laughing at her, and Hannah’s friendly, real smiles and Beth sticking to her stubbornness because it made the Washingtons a little less scary and a little less dark. And Sam felt a little misfortune to have met them at Blackwood, where they were scary, and where the wendigos came out to play when the lights went dark.

The truth kinda sucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things are looking pretty okay!  
> right?!  
> right!!!  
> stay tuned and as always,  
> thank u for reading!!!


	8. A Lot Happened in High School, Josh Has a List, and Sam Likes to Run

“Okay, googled wendigos. What the fuck, Sam?”

Sam leaned against a pine tree that was situated in front of the mountain mart, sighing over the line. Chris was a handful when he was distressed. He was also taking this surprisingly well for someone that literally hasn’t heard from Sam in about two weeks. She wondered if he assumed she had died or was being held hostage by the Washingtons. Or something else.

Not that the Washingtons were bad folk. After their first hike, Hannah insisted on the O’Donnells sticking around for an early dinner at the main lodge (which was damn huge and regal and Sam was a little bit jealous of their expendable wealth). It had been fun, and Sam was glad that Hannah wasn’t making fake smiles at her and Beth was a little less serious and she wished Josh was a little more serious.

“Sam? Are you still there?”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry, Chris,” Sam said, unsurprised to find that her mind took track elsewhere. She spent a lot of time reminiscing over the Washington kids. She was sure Chris would understand.

Chris made another distressed groan from the safety of his bedroom in sunny, smoggy L.A. while his dearest friend Samantha was probably in danger in dreary, wendigo-infested Blackwood Pines.

“Okay, are you sure that wendigos are what you’re talking about?”

“If you’re wondering, bears aren’t indigenous to Blackwood.”

“I’m serious, Sam. Did you, like, eat something weird? Mushrooms or something? Don’t you own like six different wilderness handbooks, how’d you mess up deducing something was edible when really it wasn’t--”

“Woah, woah. Calm down, Chris. I didn’t eat anything, uh, bizarre, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“No. No! I’m not implying that you’re hyped up on some major hallucinogens. But like, wendigos aren’t actually animals?”

“Chris, are you seriously telling me that, when I told you there were wendigos, you thought they were wild animals?”

Silence on the line. Sam felt her jaw drop, and she really wished she was seeing the boy’s face.

“Oh my God.”

“Shut up.”

“Chris. You’re salutatorian.”

“Unfair _and_ unrelated. I understand calculus and physics and technology, not mythology! W-what you’re talking about is flipping child’s play and made up stories about shit that goes bump in the night and what the actual hell was I supposed to think? A wild, bear-like animal is what made the most sense at the time!”

It was Sam’s turn to go quiet. He was right, damn him. Sam hated whenever Chris was right.

“Yeah. Sorry, Chris. I was, uh, really frazzled at the time.”

“And definitely not drunk?”

“And definitely not drunk.”

He sighed, and she heard the sound of a keyboard being tapped away at before Chris’s voice came back over the speaker.

“Sam, I love you, but really… none of this makes any logical sense.”

“Believe me, I was thinking the same thing.”

“Alright, well, I don’t think I can totally hop on board this whole crazy wendigo idea you’ve got, but just so we’re on the same page--”

“If you start saying something real sappy and gross, I’m hanging up.”

“Aw, really? Where’s the Sam that cried at the end of Marley and Me that I know and love?”

“Like you weren’t sitting next to me crying into my shoulder.”

“Ouch. The mountain people have really changed you, Sam. Stone cold.”

She smiled, catching herself when she remembered they couldn’t see each other.

“Bye Chris. Get back to doing whatever nerdy things you were.”

“Stay safe, Sam. I mean it. Go make out with someone for me. Preferably not a wendigo.”

She hung up, feeling miles better. Chris was really, really good at being a pick-me-up. Her eyes studied the trees for a long moment, waiting for something to pop out.

The Washingtons did, actually, and for some reason that didn’t really surprise her. They had already done their fair share of surprising Sam, and either the siblings realized that or they were giving her benefit of the doubt, but Hannah gave her a friendly, excited wave as they climbed up the mart steps.

“Sam! Fancy meeting you out here,” Hannah chirped, a wide smile on her face.

“Yeah, absolute small world.” Sam offered, returning her 100-watt smile with a 20-watt shrug. Hannah hardly seemed to notice. Sam’s phone gave a loud jingle, and four pairs of eyes turned to look at it. Josh was grinning.

“Ah, only come to the mart to abuse it's cell service, huh? Pretty sure soliciting's illegal.”

Sam tried to hide the heat leaving the tops of her ears. “No. The cashier’s cool, too. The last time I was here we had a very engaging five-line conversation about the weather.”

“Fuck yeah, Delanie’s super cool. The _best._ Right, Beth?” Josh turned to indicate the quiet sister, who winced at the comment.

“Don’t be a hardass.”

Hannah gave her a sympathetic smile, squeezing her sister’s hand. She directed her gaze at Josh, frowning at the expense of Beth, who winked back. Sam tried her best to follow the silent conversation the siblings were having, but Hannah eventually returned to indicate Sam, smiling again.

“Sorry to bother you, Sam. We’re kind of running errands right now.”

“Errands?” Sam could feel her bullshit meter going off. It was getting pretty good at catching on to Hannah’s fibs, which were often. Hannah nodded.

“Yeah. You’re welcome to join us, but you’ll die of boredom.”

“Sounds fun, Hannah. I’d love to join you on your adventure of boring errands. What’s first on the list?”

 

“Gross,” Josh said, stepping so the automatic doors caught his movement and slid open to allow the quartet entry. “You sound like some ridiculously overhyped cheerleader at her first football game.”

“Thank God. I thought I lost my over enthusiasm for menial activities.”

His eyes widened slightly, waiting for the twins to pass him and Sam before walking side by side with her into the one part convenience store-one part tourist trap.

“Back up on the track there, Samantha. You were actually a cheerleader?”

“All four years of high school. My friend Jessica was, and she was really insistent on me joining the squad with her. It was actually pretty fun.”

“Didn’t peg you as the cheerleader type,” Josh mused, wandering down the chips aisle and perusing its wares, tired eyes lingering on fading brand names.

“Oh? And what, do I dare ask, did you peg me as?”

“Stick in the mud, wallflower type that wore a ‘Save the Manatees’ shirt every other day and probably wore a different flower crown for each day of the week.”

Sam made a swipe for his shoulder, which he nimbly dodged, a smile spreading out across his face.

“Yanno, I’d really appreciate if you’d stop trying to deck me.”

“I wasn’t trying to deck you,” she said plainly, pausing to watch him bend down and lift a bag of Doritos from the bottom shelf, weighing the bag in his hands. “But I did have a ‘Save the Manatees’ tote. Not the same as a shirt.”

He failed to hide a snort. “Same campaign.” He flicked his gaze to look at Sam. “So what else was little Sammy O’Donnell up to in high school besides saving manatees and tossing pom-poms?”

“Smoked weed behind the locker rooms with the quarterback. Had sex with him too.”

Josh broke into a wild grin. “No way. Me too! We have way more in common than I thought, Sam. Hope it wasn’t the same quarterback though, that’d be awkward. He’d have a lot to explain.”

“Like, for example, why would he lower his standards to fuck Josh Washington?”

“Hey, I’m an animal in the bedroom.”

“What, like a sloth?”

“More like a tiger, if you’d like a demonstration.”

“Hard pass.”

He laughed again, green eyes twinkling at Sam before getting up from his crouching position, tossing the bag of chips to her. She caught them, surprised.

“Hey!”

“Please, Sam. You have the grip of a mountain gorilla, I’m sure you can handle carrying a bag of chips.” He wandered further down the aisle, reading bags before turning into the next one-- sad loaves of bread and artificially flavored cherry pies. Sam watched his profile as he grabbed two, three, before continuing his slow pace through the store.

“Okay, but really. What were you like in high school?”

Josh didn’t look at her. “Take a wild guess.”

She cocked her head to the side, staring at him, sizing him up. “Uh, you weren’t actually smoking weed behind the locker rooms and fucking the quarterback, right?”

He turned his head, grinning.

“One thing leads to another.”

“Ew. Be serious.”

He shrugged, chuckling softly, poking his head over the aisles to the cash register, nudging Sam with his cherry pie grasping hand. “Look at this, Sam. Gross.”

Unlike Josh, she had to stand on her toes to see over the aisle where he was indicating, watching Beth chattering excitedly to the cashier-- Delanie. Beth was giggling, or something, her hands playing with her hair in usual fashion. Sam flattened her feet, smacking Josh’s arm gently to get his attention away from the two.

“What?” he asked, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“It’s rude to spy on your sister,” Sam grumbled.

“Please, Sam, I’ve been wingmanning Beth since the summer began. Just making sure things are going according to plan.”

“I can’t tell if I admire you or want to hit you.”

“Admire me, please. I’ve always wanted a pretty girl treating me like a king.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“I prefer ‘adorable.’” He turned his head, finally, away from the spectacle, frowning at Sam’s serious expression. “What’d I say?”

She gave an exasperated sigh. “Nothing, Josh. Anyways, still don’t know what kind of guy you were back in high school. Give me a hint?”

“Ah, so Sammy finally admits defeat. I was worried, thought I’d never see the day.” His grin had returned in full force. “Okay, so let me paint a picture for you. A comfy couch. TV on in the corner of the room. Laptop opened to Busty Blondes dot com.”

“Oh,” Sam said without missing a beat. “Shut-in loser.”

“Close! Homeschooled. Bet you didn’t see that coming.”

She blinked at him, walking past him to gaze at wares further down the aisle. Her voice came out mechanical, steady, trying and failing to be empathetic towards him. “I didn’t.”

He was kind of used to the surprise and false empathy that came with telling people he was homeschooled. He could’ve as easily said “public school dropout” or “under extreme suicide watch,” but neither was a better answer than homeschooled, neither really gave good answers, but saying “homeschooled” was two parts easy and one part lie.

She began to ask him the standard questions that came with telling people he was homeschooled. He was used to it, used to giving the same, quick answers, but Sam really had a bad habit of asking a ton of questions and piling on more, so he had to stop and really give thought to some of them.

“For how long?”

“Middle school and high school. Elementary school was spent at doggy training boot camp, and fifth grade was when my parents realized that I wasn’t actually in class with normal children. Decided to pull the plug on real school altogether after that.”

“All three of you guys were homeschooled?”

“Nah, just me. Hannah and Beth are the people-type.”

“You’re not a people person?”

“More of a wendigo person.”

“Hardy har har. But really, didn’t it ever get lonely? I mean, no offense, but if I was homeschooled, I’d lose my mind.”

He wanted to tell her, “been there, done that,” but he figured he would have sounded more serious than sarcastic, and the last thing he wanted was Sam asking any questions regarding his mental health over the last twenty years. He mused over the question, picking his words carefully, executing them in a way that he hoped was funny enough to steer her away from the topic of loneliness and solid enough that she’d stop asking altogether.

“Wasn’t lonely at all. Had quite the band of imaginary friends. My own invisible weed to smoke behind invisible lockers, my own hunky football player to bone significantly. You know, typical high school experience.”

Sam gave him a sad smile, and he really wished she hadn’t, because that meant she pitied him and Josh was getting kind of tired of people pitying him. Big whoop, the guy didn’t go to public school. Big whoop, he didn’t actually get laid by the quarterback. He cleared his throat.

“Well, your turn. What’s public school like?”

Sam studied him for a second, and he really wished she didn’t do that, either. Josh actually had a pretty long list of things he wished Sam O’Donnell didn’t do, and he made a mental note to write them all down and give them to her in a neat little envelope on their wedding day.

That was kind of a stretch. Maybe at his death bed, because if he was being totally honest with himself, he was going to die by the end of summer. Whether by wendigos or by his own hand, Josh Washington wasn’t going to be around for much longer.

It was part of a little plan he had concocted on the plane ride up. Slay wendigos, meet cute girls, die in a blaze of glory and or in his bedroom. It was kind of poetic. A little melodramatic, a little stupid. But he didn’t really plan for much else after summer, so that was kind of all he had.

He felt Sam hit him in the arm again. That was the first thing going on his list of Things Josh Wished Sam Wouldn’t Do.

“What?” He said. Sam rolled her eyes.

“I was telling you a really great story about how great high school was, and you totally tuned me out. I thought we had something special, Washington.”

“Please, Sammy, the only special thing between us is our clothes, and you’ve made it very clear you’re not interested in removing them.”

Sam opened her mouth to retort, but Hannah popped her head down the aisle, waving to them.

“Josh! Sam!”

Josh really, genuinely appreciated his sisters. But it was times like these, when Hannah has hurried over to them and was now holding his hand in an iron-like grip that surely Sam would approve of, asking if Sam could sleepover tonight, that he wished for just a second to be an only child.

Of all the nights, right? Hannah picked a night when they were supposed to meet Victor and hunt. Hannah had no sense of timing.

“Hold your horses, little sister. Did you ask _Sam?”_ He would’ve remembered if Hannah asked Sam if she wanted to sleep over, because he hadn’t left Sam’s side since they walked up to the mart. Hannah gave him a sheepish grin, turning her attention over to the blonde.

“Sam, want to sleepover?”

“I’d love to.” Sam was giving him a devilish smile, and Josh added on to his mental list of Things Josh Wished Sam Wouldn’t Do. Hannah gave a delighted squeak.

“Great! So, Josh, is it okay if Sam spends the night?”

He made eye contact with his sister, hoping their impromptu staredown would result in a win for Joshua and a lose for Hannah, but the girl was real eager about stepping on his toes and making things immensely harder for him, and he squeezed his eyes shut, conceding.

“Yes, Hannah, I _guess_ Sam’s allowed to spend the night.”

Hannah released her hold of Josh’s arm, which he made a show of shaking out, grimacing at her as she went to link arms with the blonde.

“Great! We’ll be outside!”

“Sure, whatever.”

“Aw, chin up, Joshy,” Sam said, a tease to her tone as she took the bag of Doritos in her grasp and slapped it into his chest. “I’m sure you can survive  _one_ night with me.”

“Ah, yes. Because that’s my concern.” He shot his sister a look that hopefully read as “we’ll talk later,” and it must’ve, because Hannah rolled her eyes and dragged Sam out through the automatic sliding doors.  
He heaved a sigh.

 

Hannah’s speed was pretty intense, and Sam practically barreled into the tall girl when she came to a sudden stop outside of the mart.

“Jesus Christ, Hannah!”

“Oh my gosh, sorry, sorry.” Hannah helped Sam steady herself, and then she began to laugh. “I just got really, really excited, you know? I haven’t had a sleepover in years.”

“I can kind of tell, based on your reaction. However,” Sam peered into the girl’s face, recognizing the glint of mischief in her large, brown cow eyes. “Something tells me we’re not actually having a sleepover, huh?”

Hannah kept a straight face for a moment, turning to look over her shoulders and finally set her gaze on the doors of the store. She shook her head, inklings of a grin forming on her lips.

“Nope. But Josh would kill me if I straight up told him what I wanted,” Hannah fixed her gaze back on Sam. “I’m kind of a genius, Sam.”

It was at that moment the truth seemed to dawn on Sam, and she couldn’t help but take a healthy step back away from Hannah, dread settling in her stomach. Oh no. Oh _hell no._

“Hannah,” Sam began slowly. “Please don’t tell me that whatever we’re doing tonight involves wendigos.”

“We were going on a hunt, anyway. Besides, you’re totally strong and capable, and Victor wouldn’t say no to an extra helping hand.”

“Hannah, when, in the last few weeks I’ve known you, have I shown any sign of wanting to hunt wendigos?”

Hannah’s face fell, and her eyes widened in surprise, or concern. “Oh. I thought…”

“No, this kind of sounds like the total opposite of thinking.” Sam felt her voice shudder with anger, and she quickly balled her hands into fists to avoid lashing out at the brunette. Her thoughts began to run at a mile a minute. Hunting wendigos? Her? _Sam?_ Really? With what? She was five feet tall and had never been in a fight before in her life-- hell, she hated fighting, hated blood, hated seeing people get hurt and hurting people herself. Hunting wendigos wasn’t going to end in gold medals and cheering crowds. She thought back to that first night, with Hannah, seeing the bruises coloring on her flesh, the blood drying on her cheeks, and she looked really hard at Hannah’s face and could almost see the yellowing skin under layers of carefully applied concealer. Her stomach dropped hard like a stone, and the same, cold shivers that Sam had done a real good job of ignoring were back, and for the first time, Sam realized that she could really, truly die on this fucked up, cursed mountain.

She took another step away from Hannah.

“Sam?” There was concern in the girl’s voice, who began to step forward, reaching towards her. “Hey, you okay? You look like you’re about to pass out… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s,” Sam inhaled, hard. “It’s fine, Hannah. I-I’m fine. Really.”

“You sure? You look really sick.” Hannah outstretched a hand. “Come on, I can walk you back to your cabin.”

“I can, uh, I can walk myself. Thanks,” Sam glanced back to the automatic doors, which had slid open, revealing Beth and Josh conversing with each other. The two stopped, staring at the stand-off between Sam and Hannah, who looked at her siblings like they were a car and she were a deer in the headlights.

“Sam?” Josh’s voice broke through to her, and his brows had furrowed to mimic the concern on Hannah’s face. “You alright there?”

Sam remembered her third week in her biology class, where she learned about the fight-or-flight response. That was simple: fight against the threat, or get the fuck away from it because you don’t have a shot at beating it.

Fight or flight.

Sam had a pretty good idea of what she wanted to do. She soaked in the faces of the siblings, taking another step backwards towards the trail.

Without another word, Sam turned tail and ran.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't worry, a wholesome, fun girly sleepover will happen. by the powers invested in me, i'll make sure this story does not end until there is an ooey-gooey-gossip-chocked-actual-sleepover scene. my life now depends on it. hold me to this promise
> 
> thanks for reading!


	9. Sam Realizes She’s Tired of Running and That Subsequently Saves Her Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know what we always need more of? beth washington. always.

It wasn’t until she was safely across her cabin threshold and had locked the door behind her that Sam’s heart stopped racing.

The usual ten minute walk was completed in half the time. She was proud of herself for getting in that much-needed run.

However, running in the woods didn’t have the same kind of spark as running around her little suburban neighborhood. For one thing, the spark the woods gave her was kind of scary, and back in L.A., all she had to worry about was being chased by her next door neighbor’s ridiculously yappy and excitable terrier.

Here, there were actual monsters with sharp teeth and claws and would want nothing more than to rip apart her flesh for a meal.

She slid down the door, bringing her knees up to her chin, wrapping her arms around them. Was she always shaking this much?

A whine slipped from her mouth, and Sam gulped back any more sounds. There was no way in hell she was going to cry about this, not here, not now. Samantha O’Donnell was tough. She didn’t cry because she was scared of wendigos. She didn’t cry because she was scared of dying.

She didn’t cry because she felt like a needy child that broke her favorite toy, and although it was clear Sam was alone in the cabin and her parents were probably out chatting up Bob and Melinda and their fake way of talking, crying was still a weakness and she made herself promise, then and there, that Samantha O’Donnell wouldn’t resort to crying, even when she felt small and scared and wendigos were a very real threat to her life.

Sam steeled herself, wiping away angry little hot tears with the collar of her t-shirt. She figured that fit her yearly quota of tears.

A knock on the cabin door erupted any bubble of sanctuary Sam thought she had. Slowly she inched back up the door, peeking out of the nearest window at the trespasser.

Hannah? No, Beth. Not Hannah But Beth.

“Go away, please.” Sam shouted, still watching the girl out the window, who rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips.

“Not planning to, Sam. Open the door.”

“No thanks. Visitors unwelcomed. This is probably trespassing.”

“Haha! Yeah, alright, Sam. I’m trespassing. _On my own resort.”_

Beth kind of had her there.

Slowly, Sam unlocked the door, leaping back from it.

“Okay, but you have to be alone.” Sam called out, facing away from the window. She heard Beth give an exasperated sigh from the other side of the door.

“No Hannahs, no Joshes. Scout’s honor. Can I come in?”

“Door’s unlocked.”

The doorknob twisted, and Beth’s head poked through the opening she made, turning to look at Sam, a grin on her face.

“Thanks! For a minute, I was worried I’d have to break it down fireman-style.”

“Please say you don’t actually know how to do that.”

“I don’t, but I’ve seen enough movies to know how it probably works.” Beth swung the door open completely, inviting herself in, shutting the door quietly behind her. She emitted a low whistle, inspecting the cabin. “You guys have really made yourself at home.”

“Uhm,” Sam said. Beth looked at her from the corner of her eye.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to sound like a grumpy landlady.”

Sam didn’t respond, and the brunette moved towards the couch, flopping into the cushions with a satisfying _fwump_. She patted the space next to her exuberantly.

“Come! Sit. Your couch! Very soft. My mom’s an interior design genius. However, this rusty red color is damn atrocious.”

Sam made robotic movements towards the girl, unsure of what to do, what to say. Beth never struck Sam as the cool, humorous type-- she was definitely cool, but she was stubborn and serious and not so chill. Yet here she was, sprawling herself on Sam’s cabin couch, criticizing color choices and making a spectacle of it. Sam fell back into the seat, her _fwump_ not quite as satisfying. Beth was grinning.

“No offense, Beth, but why are you here?” Sam blurted after a moment. Beth sighed.

“I kind of own this place?”

“Not what I meant. Why are you here, in my cabin, on my couch--”

“Before you continue, I’d like to point out I own both of these things.”

_“Beth.”_ Sam narrowed her eyes. “I know you’re not here to remind me of how rich you are. What’s your deal?”

Beth’s grin faded, replaced by a grim expression that kind of answered Sam’s question.

“Hannah told me about her plans with you tonight. She was, uh, really upset.”

“The sleepover part, or the taking me out to hunt wendigos part?”

“Both.” Beth turned away from Sam, tugging at her hair, sighing. “She wants to apologize. Thinks she fucked up your whole friendship.”

“Kind of,” Sam said.

“Listen, Sam,” Beth had brought her knees up, resting her head against the back of the couch. “Hannah’s never really had a ton of friends besides me. She’s a little awkward, you know? My friends thought I was weird for wanting to be with my sister all the time, but in the end, she’s kind of all I got. Her and Josh.

“And I know that it was, uh, kind of scary and really unexpected for her to ask you to sleepover and orchestrate a plan to get you out and hunting with us tonight. And I totally get how you reacted, I do. Don’t get me wrong. Fuck wendigos.” Beth had stopped tugging on her hair, looking over at Sam, who was staring at her in rapt attention. “You with me?”

“No, not really. But uh,” Sam managed. “I don’t want to hurt Hannah, She’s so lovable and I really, really want to be her friend. But hunt wendigos? That’s not exactly my idea of a fun Friday night.”

Beth laughed. “I like you, Sam. Over here speaking some mad truth. I remember when we first started hunting wendigos. I was scared out of my damn mind.”

Sam cocked an eyebrow. “Really? I was kind of expecting you to be out there, guns blazing, more than the other two.”

“Nah. I hated it. I had wicked nightmares the first few weeks,” Beth paused a moment, eyes narrowing. “They’re not a myth when they’re up-close and personal. It’s just too vivid, too real. When I was out hunting, all I wanted to do was run home and hide in my closet.”

Sam studied Beth’s face, which had paled significantly, her cheeks ashen, her eyes darkening into inky pools of worry and anxiety.

“Why’d you keep hunting, Beth? If you were so scared.” Sam’s voice was barely above a whisper, and Beth blinked, as if noticing Sam was sitting next to her for the first time. She ran a hand through her hair, lips pursed, thinking of an answer.

“I guess,” Beth said after a moment of thought. “I didn’t want to run and hide when push came to shove. Didn’t want to be cowering under the covers while my dumb big brother and dumb twin sister were risking their lives every night out there to protect every human being that set foot in Blackwood Pines. I didn’t want to be _scared._ I hated that, you know? I figured, I have to face my fears eventually. That’s what kept me going.”

Silence fell between the girls as the afternoon sun hovered low behind the cabin curtains. Beth had stopped talking, instead running her hands through her short bob, sometimes picking at the watch on her wrist, adjusting her seating position on the couch. Sam stared at the floor, the ceiling, anywhere that wasn’t Beth, afraid to look at her.

Maybe that was Sam’s first problem. Maybe the first little fear Sam had to conquer was to stop acting like the Washingtons were monsters in their own right, separate entities from wendigos. Maybe Sam had to stop worrying about what was real and what was fake and what was the truth and what was the lie. Maybe Sam had to stop running, stop choosing flight as her first response to any sign of danger.

That scared her a little. The notion that Sam had to stop running to stop feeling afraid.

It had always been easier to run away.

Perhaps running wasn’t the best solution to her problems.

Perhaps, running _was_ her problem.

She turned her head to face the brunette, who mimicked her movement, cocking her head to the side.

“Sam?”

“I really like running,” Sam said quickly to the girl’s surprise. “I’ve won gold medals for running.”

“What the hell does that have to do with--”

“Let me finish.” Beth clammed up. “I always thought, you know, running was the easiest, fastest solution to get me out of a pinch. And that worked, for a really long time. Almost twenty years, actually. But I think…”

Sam hesitated, clenching her fists, struggling against every instinct in her body that told her to stop talking, drop everything, and run into the woods as fast as she could. _Not this time._

“I think I’m tired of running from shit that scares me. Beth,” Sam locked eyes with the girl, whose stunned expression was dissolving into a giddy smile. “If Hannah still wants to have that sleepover…”

“Sam, if I didn’t have a date tomorrow, I’d get down and propose to you right now. Coolest, most badass speech ever. Can’t believe Hannah and Josh missed this sappy, Oscar-winning monologue.”

Sam snorted. “Well, I’m glad I brought a tear to your eye.”

Beth raised her eyebrows in surprise, touching a finger to her cheek to find she had actually, genuinely teared up. Whether from her emotional, rousing speech or from memories of being scared, Sam didn’t know, but seeing strong, brave Beth cry made Sam rethink her notions about tears. Crying wasn’t a weakness. It was, somehow, the clearest sign of strength if Sam had ever seen one.

“Alright, Sam. Pack yourself a dumb duffel bag so you actually look like a cute teenage girl going to a sleepover.” Beth rose from the couch, stretching her arms high over her head. She twisted her head over her shoulder to glance at Sam, a smile stretching her features.

“We’ve got wendigos to hunt.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHA HEY.... we're getting closer to.... reaching a plot... probably  
> oh boy.
> 
> thanks for reading!!


	10. This Episode's Brought to You by Cheap Whiskey and a Game of Checkers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait!! this chapter was actually real hard to write omg;;

Sam stared up at the gaping, sinister looking cabin that housed the Washingtons when the lights went out, the knot in her chest only getting more tangled. It was still a distressed mess, teetering on the edge of salvageable and a collapse waiting to happen. Sam shuddered, tearing her gaze away to watch the trees step in around them in a hostile circle, limbs stretching out to graze against her flesh.

Her legs protested. Beth’s hand was wound tightly around her arm, pulling her out of the grasp of the trees, leading her towards the cabin, and Sam let her, despite her legs trying desperately to run away. Beth was essentially tethering her to her decision, and while she was thankful that the girl had a grip on her, she was scared and considered maybe five, ten different ways to pull out of Beth’s grasp and run before they made it to the door.

“Ready, Sam?” Beth asked as they skipped up the rickety porch steps, Beth’s free hand landing firmly on the door handle. Sam gave her a weak smile.

“I’m not.”

“Great!”

Beth swung the door open, dragging Sam into the familiar, yet unfamiliar space.

The cabin space was different in the setting sunlight-- still only four walls, small and confining, but Sam never inspected it the last time she was here (mostly due to having passed out, but besides the point). Nearest to the door to her immediate right was a beaten up couch, similar to the one in her own cabin, a dusty shade of blue rather than red, cotton spilling out of the cushions in large tears. Josh was taking up space in the large, mismatched leather chair next to it. There was a dresser set behind the chair, made up of cracked, splitting wood, a shotgun and a set of flares sitting precariously on it. There was a framed photo above the dresser of a bright, tropical beach scene, which was absolutely garish and a poor excuse of a joke within the Canadian forest. A small dining table sat in front of the only window in the cabin, which was wide and revealed the world beyond the cabin, facing up the trail. The old man, Victor, was seated here, sipping from a flask, unfazed by Sam and Beth’s appearance. Hannah was nowhere in sight.

“I brought Sam,” Beth announced to the two. Josh, whose nose was buried deep in a leather bound journal, glanced over the top of it with little enthusiasm. His eyes narrowed. Sam returned the glare.

“So you showed up,” he said plainly.

“I did.”

He turned his attention back to the book, flipping a couple of pages. “Didn’t pass out this time.”

Sam scoffed, crossing her arms defiantly. “You really are insufferable.”

“I get that a lot.”

“Okay! We know, Josh,” Beth said, stepping in and putting her hands on Sam’s shoulders, steering her towards the couch. “Where’s Hannah?”

“Making sure we don’t starve the night.” Josh slapped the journal close, tucking it next to him in the seat cushion, eyeing the girls, silent. Victor stood suddenly from his seat at the table, walking towards the kids, clearing his throat.

“Joshua, outside. Need to talk to you.”

The three exchanged looks, the girls watching Josh as he weighed the decision between staying inside the safe, not-very-warm cabin or following the old man to the porch to have some heart-to-heart, or worst. He looked at Beth with pleading eyes, who responded by rolling hers, jerking her head to tell him to follow the old man. Sam just gave him a sympathetic shrug, which was miles worst.

With a sigh, Josh stood, following the old man out to the porch. They stood there silent for a moment, watching the trail and the sun set behind the trees. Victor uncapped his flask, taking a swig, offering it to Josh.

“You know why I want to talk with you, Josh?” Victor asked him as he threw back the flask, letting the whiskey burn a hole in his throat before answering.

“I’m guessing it’s not about investing in a timeshare plan?” Josh said with a cough, twisting the cap of the flask back on, drumming his index finger against the warm metal.

Victor let out a chuckle. “I wish. Wouldn’t want to here, though. Maybe Florida or something.”

“Ouch. Way to hurt a man’s pride.”

“I’m thinking of retiring.”

Josh stood up straighter, eyes widening at the exclamation from Victor. _That was sudden._

It never really struck him that the old man was, well, getting old, that maybe he was tired of staying up all night and hunting wendigos and not brushing whatever was left of his teeth. As far as Josh knew, Victor had been doing this work for decades, taking the task on after his grandfather’s death, living like he was going to die every day in the woods--

His stomach did somersaults at the revelation.

“You want us to take over.” Josh said. Victor didn’t respond for a moment.

“Someone’s got to watch these mountains. No one’s better equipped than you and your sisters.”

Josh shook away the image in his head of himself in sixty years, looking like a shitty, crazy old dude that set things on fire. He smacked his own cheeks when he imagined his sisters in the position.

Josh would rather die than see his sisters turn into wendigo hunting old ladies that didn’t brush their teeth and drank bad whiskey all the time.

He began to think of his plan to quite literally die at the end of summer.

“Not my sisters.” Josh said softly.

“The hell does that mean?”

“I-I mean, they have friends and really great futures ahead of them. They can’t… they can’t disappear from all of that to live up here and hunt wendigos. Not for forever.”

“Didn’t say it’d be forever. I only said I was thinkin’ of retiring. Not gonna straight up do it knowing I’m leaving this place to you kids.”

“Okay, the hell does _that_ mean?”

Victor chuckled, plucking the flask out of Josh’s hands. “Means I wanna see how you guys fair without me saving your ass every five minutes.”

“You’re testing us?”

“Rest of the summer, son. I’ll be right here, safe in this cabin, while you lead the girls on hunts.”

Josh began to feel his throat close up. “What?”

“Let me put it simply,” Victor clasped a hand on one of Josh’s shoulders, pulling him down so they were at eye-level. Josh swallowed, hard. “You’re in charge now, Washington boy.”

The old man released him after a few seconds, letting the news sink in. He disappeared back inside, leaving Josh on the porch, watching the last shreds of sunlight fade away into the dark of night. He looked at the door, inhaling, exhaling slowly.

“Josh?”

He jumped, turning around to face Hannah, who was carrying a rolled up bag from the mart between her hands. Her gaze hardened, and she frowned.

“You okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“Yeah, a fucking poltergeist.” He forced out a laugh. “Sam’s here.”

“Sam?” Hannah’s frown deepened, and she took a step back, tearing her eyes away from him.

“Don’t worry, Hannah Banana. I don’t think she hates you.” He extended a hand towards his sister. “Come on. Beth’s probably getting cranky from hunger right now. Wouldn’t want to keep her waiting.”

Hannah nodded, carefully padding up the steps, taking his hand and squeezing it. “Thanks, Josh.”

“For?”

“Being a good brother.”

He squeezed her hand back, feeling his jaw tighten. “Yeah. You know it.”

They entered the cabin, walking in on Sam and Beth locked in an intense game of checkers. Neither of them looked up.

“Wow. Beth’s got a nerd friend,” Josh said. Hannah elbowed him.

Sam was the first to look up, eyes widening in surprise. “Oh.”

“‘Oh?’ So verbose, Sam.”

She stood up quickly, tucking a loose strand of blonde behind one ear, ignoring Josh’s comment. “Hannah! Is it-- can I-- can _we--”_

“Talk?” The brunette finished, a sad smile forming on her face. Sam’s features melted in relief.

“Yes. Alone?” She annunciated the last word, pointedly looking at Josh, who threw his hands up in defense.

“Woah, I’m not the only other person in the room.”

“I know.”

Sam pushed past the boy, following Hannah outside, leaving behind a stunned Josh. He twisted his head to watch the girls leave, then looked back to Beth, raising an eyebrow, mouth ajar. Beth shrugged, grinning.

“Come, Joshy Washy. We can play checkers while we wait for their tearful apologies to be over.”

Josh stole a look over at Victor, who gave him a gruff nod before returning to stare out the single dirt, stained window. He heaved a heavy sigh, joining his sister on the couch.

“I call red.”

\--

The girls weren’t talking, for the most part.

Hannah had offered Sam a water, and she took it, taking small, gradual sips as they inspected the woods around them in icy silence.

 _I have to say something,_ Sam thought bitterly. _Or this is just… gonna keep going nowhere._

“So,” Sam began, and she was surprised to find a voice in sync with her own, and she turned to look at Hannah, whose cheeks glowed pink in the setting light.

“Sorry. You can go first.”

“Uhm,” Sam managed to say. “Thanks. I don’t really know where to begin, though.”

Hannah gave her a sad look, her large, brown, cow eyes looking all the more melancholy. “I think I know where.”

The girls looked at each other, and Sam nodded slowly, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves.

“I’m not going to apologize for how I reacted, Hannah.”

Hannah pursed her lips. “I wasn’t expecting you to.”

“I just.. you can’t just ask people to hunt something they know nothing about. Not when they’re scared, and confused, and spent a week vegetating because they were so scared to even _look_ outside at night. I didn’t know what to think.”

“And then you ran.”

“And then I ran,” Sam agreed. “Almost crawled into bed and stayed there for the rest of summer.”

To her surprise, Hannah gave out a little whine. She cocked her head, watching the girl clamp a hand over her mouth, tears rolling off her cheeks.

“Hannah?”

The brunette shook her head, shuddering, and neither spoke for a good minute or so. Sam waited patiently while the girl took off her glasses, wiping the wetness away from her eyes, sniffling. She took a shaky breath.

“I-I’m sorry, Sam. I really am. I wasn’t thinking, a-and _God._ When did I become such an idiot?”

Sam lifted a hand, patting Hannah’s shoulder. “You’re not. I forgive you, Hannah, really. Water under the bridge.”

Hannah sniffled again, tensing against Sam’s hand. “You’re seriously okay with me right now?”

“Hey, we all make poor decisions and get into stupid fights with people we care about,” Sam said, smiling. “Part of life, really.”

“I guess. You’re, uh, free to return to your family now.”

“Oh, so Beth didn’t fill you in?”

“Fill me in?” Hannah echoed, eyebrows raising. “On what?”

Sam placed her hands firmly on her hips, hoping she looked semi-cool to the other, who looked down at the pose and giggled, covering her face with her hand.

“I’m gonna be a super cool, super strong wendigo hunter like you. For tonight, at least.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Hannah did a bad job of hiding the hopefulness in her voice.

“I have no reason to be joking right now. You see, Hannah, after the last time I ran away from you and hid from the shit that scared me, I realized something. I realized that my legs aren’t very long, and although I’ve won gold medals before from being a highly skilled runner, I needed to invest in other hobbies. I’m a little tired of being scared, Hannah.”

Hannah was grinning now, a sparkle returning to her large brown eyes, and she threw her arms around Sam’s shoulders. The hug was tight, and Sam noticed the intense beating of Hannah’s heart underneath her hoodie, and she felt the shape of a flare gun in her pocket. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around the taller’s back, and she felt Hannah lift, and Sam stood on her toes to accommodate the excitement in her grip. They stood that way for a long time, and Hannah eventually set Sam back onto the creaking porch, pulling away, her hands still on Sam’s shoulders.

“Hey, Sam?”

“Hannah?”

Hannah smiled, genuinely, before speaking. “You’re a lot braver than you give yourself credit for.”

Sam raised her eyebrows in surprise, but the girl released her before she could say more.

“It’s getting really dark, now. We should get inside and prep. I know you don’t have a lot of, uh, training, but don’t worry! We’ll show you the ropes. Come on.”

Sam let herself follow the brunette into the cabin, stupefied, unsure if she had heard Hannah right the first time.

A lot braver than she gave herself credit for.

Sam couldn’t help but agree.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a hard time with chapter titles, btw.  
> but we're going hunting next chapter! hopefully. probably. buckle up.
> 
> thanks for reading!


	11. Hollywood’s Glitz and Glamour, Meet Blackwood’s Shotguns and Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter gets me excited

“No offense, Sam, but I hope you like flares.” Josh had tossed a satchel at her when the girls entered the cabin again. She caught it with ease, opening it to reveal that it was, in fact, filled with flares, a single flare gun, and ammunition for it. She lifted her head to look at Josh.

“How did you guys just obtain this much?”

“You’ve seem to forgotten who we are.”

“Right, right. Just so we’re in the same boat, if, at any point, I think you’re all going to hell and want out, I’m shooting one of these into the sky.”

“Fair enough, but your limit is one. Can’t afford to waste ammo.”

Sam grimaced at him, closing the satchel and slipping it over her head. Hannah gave her a sympathetic smile.

“He’s always like this, right?”

“More or less.”

“Heard that,” Josh grunted from his position near the dresser, where he and Beth were taking inventory, loading shotguns, prepping crossbows. Sam was both awe-struck and intimidated by the spectacle, watching the three siblings work around each other in routine, handing things to one another, asking questions, their hands working with care and speed. Once inventory was handled and the trio was prepped, Josh picked up the leather notebook he had abandoned on the chair he was sitting in earlier.

“Alright,” he said, flipping through the pages before withdrawing a folded up slip of paper, unfolding it to be twice the size of the journal pages. He smoothed it out on the coffee table, and the twins sat around him, Hannah pulling Sam to sit next to her on the couch, staring intently at what appeared to be a map.

“I know the mines are like, the worst place to go skipping around in, but we should explore the tunnels here on the west side--” he tapped a section of the map circled in red pen. “Should be less dangerous, mine-wise. No collapses until about two, three miles in. We probably won’t go down that far.”

“Splitting up?” Beth had asked, tearing her gaze away from the map to watch Josh’s profile. He nodded, slowly.

“Yeah. I’ll take Sam, you and Hannah will go together.”

“Wait, we’re splitting up?” Sam interjected. Josh looked up, tense.

“We’ll cover more ground.”

“Uh, not to scare you or anything, but I’m new to this. You really want me to tag along with you? Beth has a crossbow.”

“Those two things are exactly why I want you to go with me, Sammy. If you and Hannah went together with just flares to your names, you’ll be dinner.”

“Oh. Peachy.”

“Any other questions, Sam?”

She shrugged, indicating the map. “You’re the expert, Joshua.”

“Damn right.”

He rattled off a plan to the sisters, who nodded along with what he said, sometimes interjecting to indicate points on the map, asking questions, which he answered with poise and professionalism. Sam shifted awkwardly, unsure how to contribute. The siblings were like different people, here, having exchanged their usual teen facades for ones of hardened hunters that have done this way too many times to keep track of. Sam was used to the strange mannerisms of the Washingtons, from their quick way of changing face and acting bizarre to the way they treated her when together, or alone. Somehow, Sam wasn’t used to this new way they acted, the teamwork they displayed, the horrific feeling of dread that seemed to simmer around them, the way they planned and worked things out to go and hunt things that sometimes sounded like the wind.

She wondered when they began to do this, when they fell into this nightly summer pattern, when they realized wendigos were real and sleep stopped coming to them.

“Sam?”

She blinked, looking up to meet Josh’s hard stare. “Hm?”

“Just making sure you’re still with us. Here’s the rendezvous point if anything goes wrong.” He tapped a location in the tunnels, where two of them met, marked with an ‘X.’ “Not to say that anything will go wrong. But if something does, that’s where we go.”

Sam didn’t want to admit that the rendezvous point didn’t make any damn sense to her because she couldn’t decipher the map, but she stayed quiet, slowly nodding.

“Sure.”

“You’ll know it when you see it. There’s a, uh, sign.”

“A sign.” Sam said flatly, quirking an eyebrow at him. Josh grinned.

“I printed out a poster of Tommy Wiseau’s face and nailed it into the wall some odd years ago.”

_“Oh.”_

“You won’t miss it,” Hannah said, an apologetic smile on her face. “It’s the size of a poster.”

“Is there a story behind this poster or should I just not ask?”

“Better not to,” Josh said, folding the map shut. “Anyways, we good?”

Beth turned to where Victor was sitting at the table, near the back of the cabin, and Sam almost forgot that the old hunter was there. “Victor, are you not coming?”

He hesitated. “‘Fraid not. Don’t get killed.”

Beth rolled her eyes, turning back to face the other three. “Sure.”

“Then,” Josh stood up, tucking the map back between the pages of the journal, sticking it in the bag he carried over his chest. “Let’s roll the _fuck_ out.”

\--

“Are wendigos shy sometimes?” Sam questioned as the four trekked upwards towards whatever mine entrance Josh was looking for. “Like, last time the one we saw got really close to the resort…”

“It’s not that they’re shy,” Hannah began to explain. “It’s more like they don’t normally get that close. Usually we hunt them so they stay further up the mountain and in the mines. When they come down, though, it’s not as easy to get rid of them.”

“How so?”

“Well, sometimes people hear and get curious and try to see what’s making all the ruckus. Last time that happened, some weird hiker girl passed out.”

“Really? Sounds wild. Is she okay?”

“Yeah, for some reason she’s hunting them with us, like, right now.” Hannah shot her a grin that was difficult to see in the dark. “In all seriousness, the closer wendigos get to people, the harder our job gets.”

“Huh. How long have you guys been doing this, uhm, job?”

Hannah shrugged, testing her weight against a tree stump before stepping on and over it. “Uh, way longer than we should? I wanna say we started when we were maybe fourteen.”

“Fourteen? Seriously? When I was fourteen I stopped wearing sports bras and started riding my bike to school.”

Hannah began to laugh. “Please, Sam. We did normal things too. Just got preoccupied over summer.”

“You guys just spend all your summers up here?” Sam asked, turning her head to direct the question to Josh and Beth, who had been walking ahead.

“Didn’t used to.” Beth answered. “This place used to be a private winter resort. Summers were split between spending time on the reservation and travelling to whatever country suited our mom’s fancy that year.”

“What changed?”

“Dad wanted to explore new hobbies. Thought running a seasonal resort would be fun, and boom. Blackwood Pines opened its doors to the public after Han and I graduated from middle school. First summer we spend here, and bam. Wendigo hunting.”

“Talk about an unforgettable summer,” Sam chuckled, adjusting the weight of the satchel’s strap on her shoulder. “What about Victor?”

“Taught us everything we know. We kind of owe him our lives.”

No one spoke the rest of the trip through the forest, freezing every now and then when a howl would rip through the silence. After the third roar, Josh stopped walking, turning around to face the girls.

“Alright,” He spoke in a low whisper, nodding to Sam. “First tip of hunting wendigos. They can’t see you unless you’re moving. If you stay completely still, it’s like you’re invisible. They can still hear shit, though, so don’t get cocky.”

“Stay still, don’t talk. Got it.”

“However, if you can run away, run. Go hide somewhere, wait for the coast to be clear. Trust your instincts, capiche?”

“Sure thing.” Sam saluted Josh, who rolled his eyes and began to walk down a slope, pointing out a space between the mountains.

“That’s the entrance.”

The quartet moved quicker now to it, standing outside the gaping hole in the side of the mountain, wooden poles jutting from the ground to hold the tunnel’s shape long broken. Sam breathed in the musty, metallic air, coughing a little.

“Now what?” She asked.

“Now,” Josh responded, withdrawing a flashlight from his bag and clicking it on. “We go explore.”

Hannah suddenly was gripping Sam’s hand, and Sam gave it a squeeze, following the others into the entrance. The tunnel split almost immediately, and Hannah let go of Sam to go stand next to her sister.

“Be safe,” Hannah said quietly, giving Sam and Josh a sad smile. Beth grinned, giving the pair a peace-out sign before splitting off down the left fork. Sam waved at them as they descended, following Josh down the other side. She ignored the jitters crawling up and down her back, the feeling of the walls closing in around her.

“You doing okay, Sammy?” Josh said quietly, pausing at the first ledge they came across, shining the flashlight across the wide expanse of the tunnel.

“I’m fine. Thanks.”

Josh nodded, stooping down to carefully drop off the ledge, and Sam was surprised to find it was small enough to jump down. She brushed off the fronts of her shorts, kind of regretting wearing them, following behind Josh. Every now and then a growl and roar would echo off the tunnel sides, and the pair stood still, watching, waiting. It was agonizing to move like this, waiting for something to appear and attempt to kill them. Sam watched Josh’s movements, the way he gripped the shotgun in his hand, shaking wildly. Another scream bounced off the walls, and she grabbed his arm on instinct.

“Woah there, Sammy. I bruise easy.” Josh had turned his head to face the girl, who only tightened her grip in response.

“This was a bad idea.” Sam said, and her head began to buzz, instincts telling her to climb out because she was going to suffocate down here, and the ceiling seemed to drop lower and lower, pulsating to the rhythm of her own heartbeat. She swallowed hard, looking down at her shoes. “A really, _really_ bad idea.”

Josh was quiet, but he didn’t shake her off, moving forward once more at a slower pace. “Okay. Uh, don’t let go.”

She didn’t, and Josh wondered for a minute if Sam was the type to scare easy-- she didn’t seem like it, for sure. The girl was an ex-cheerleader with a mouth and a grip strong enough to offset even the worst kind of monsters. It was admirable, really. She was admirable.

Josh kind of wished he was more like Sam instead of himself, but deep down he enjoyed playing the brave one this time. As long as it could last.

An earthy screech rattled the tunnel walls, and Sam’s grip tightened. They froze in place.

For a long minute, Josh was certain it was safe to start moving, and he almost did if he didn’t see the wendigo crawling along the tunnel walls, jerking its head from side to side, limbs moving sporadically. It slowed down as it got closer to the pair, and Josh ignored the stammering of his heart to push himself and Sam as close as they could possibly get to the wet, slimy tunnel walls.

The wendigo hissed, and he felt his muscles stop working.

_Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit._

He stole a glance to Sam, who was staring wide eyed, mouth a thin line, in the direction of the wendigo, and he could feel her grip only getting tighter, her form quivering in fear next to her, and he almost regretted not sending her off with Hannah or Beth because she was probably a lot safer with either of them than with him. Carefully, slowly, he lifted his hand to take hold of one of hers, and she responded quickly, giving it a squeeze and entangling her fingers with his long, skeletal ones. Sam began to relax.

The wendigo let out a cry, sniffing the air, milky white eyes searching the tunnel, finally laying its gaze against the duo. Its glare seemed to burn holes in Sam and Josh’s faces. His blood ran cold.

With another eerie growl, the creature moved onwards, further down the direction from which Sam and Josh came, but the two didn’t dare make another move or sound for a minute, two, ten.

“I think we’re good.” Josh said, clearing his throat from misuse. “We should move.”

Sam didn’t say anything. She gave his hand a squeeze, and they began to descend further into the winding mine shaft. Her hand was clammy, and shaking, and Josh gave a resigned sigh, a knot forming deep in his stomach.

“Sam, you… you’re okay, right?” Josh asked.

“I wasn’t ready for that.”

“Usually the case." He scoffed.

Sam fell quiet again.

“How do you guys do this every night?” The question was innocent enough, and Josh shrugged.

“We make do. Victor’s with us all the time though, this is our first solo.”

“No, more than just… _making do_ when you go on hunts. How do you guys act so damn normal and chipper when you’re hunting literal nightmares all the time? Doesn’t it just fuck you up, even a little bit?”

Josh stopped walking, turning slightly to face Sam, contemplating his answer as he stared into her face. She was pretty, really pretty, and for a moment her sun-kissed complexion and bright green eyes rippled, revealing pulsating, rigid muscle underneath, flesh falling off her face in shreds. He blinked, hard, hoping the hallucination would break, and when it did he heaved a great sigh.

“To be honest, I think I like these monsters better than the ones I can't kill."

Sam opened her mouth to respond, but closed it again, averting her gaze.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for, Sammy. Let’s keep going. Tommy Wiseau’s waiting for us.”

Josh began to remember the shape of Sam’s hand in his, and he looked between them at their intertwined fingers, locked in a tight embrace, and quickly pulled away from her, shoving his fist deep into the pocket of his vest. He cleared his throat, picking his pace up, glancing over his shoulder now and then to make sure the short blonde was following, and he was surprised that she still was.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some... jossams.... i GUESS....  
> next time, hannah and beth get into Shenanigans and i cry a lot while writing fanfic
> 
> thanks for reading!


	12. Ideally Everyone Lives but Sometimes Things Happen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yikes.

Beth had stopped for the umpteenth time to fuss with her shoe, frowning as she finally took the sneaker off and shaking it to clatter pebbles against the earth.

“Seriously, Beth?” Hannah asked, crossing her arms and leaning against a tunnel wall. Beth rolled her eyes.

“Please, Hannah, this has been extremely uncomfortable. Let me live my life.”

“Your life’s majorly boring.”

Beth stuck her tongue out at her twin, and Hannah mimicked the gesture, grinning right afterwards. The two began to walk on, dropping down a ledge that opened up into a wide cavern, breaking off into three different paths. Beth emitted a low whistle.

“Jesus. How are we supposed to get through all of these?”

“With a strong heart and belief in ourselves?” Hannah suggested, half joking. Beth shot her a tired look.

“Maybe later. Let’s look around.”

The two broke apart to inspect different sides of the cavern, which was for the most part littered with barrels of explosive oil and a shattered gas lamp or two. Hannah wasn’t surprised, really. They’d been in the mines plenty of times before, and gas lamps and barrels of oil weren’t new to them. The sisters regrouped near the tunnel entrances, looking into the different pathways that twisted and turned around jagged corners.

“Which way do we go?” Hannah asked, turning to her sister. Beth placed a hand on her hip, the other tugging at her bangs, her face contemplative.

“I read online once that when you’re in a maze, stick to the right side? Or was that the left?”

“You said the exact same thing when we went through that corn maze on Halloween last year.”

“Oh yeah! Which direction did we take then?”

“Left _and_ we got hopelessly lost. Until ten at night. You started crying.”

“I was stressed, Han.”

“Dad had to come find us.”

“Very, very stressed.”

Hannah laughed, turning her gaze to the right hand tunnel. “Shall we?”

“Better than staying here, I guess.”

The two marched onwards, looking behind them now and then, listening for sounds of wendigos. It was obnoxiously quiet. Beth looped her arm around Hannah’s, looking around aimlessly.

“You look worried,” Beth commented. Hannah shrugged.

“I am.”

“About Sam and Josh?”

Hannah nodded, and Beth patted her arm.

“Aw, don’t be. They’ll be totally fine. Josh is tough, Sam is tough.”

“I know. But I’m more worried about _Josh...”_ Hannah didn’t finish her sentence, locking gaze with Beth, hoping the girl understood what she was implying. Beth sighed.

“He’s not some hopeless freak that needs saving, Hannah.”

“I know that.”

“Josh will be fine.”

“He’s been acting so strange, lately. I mean, we knew he was avoiding Dr. Hill’s calls, but sometimes it feels like he isn’t totally here. What if--”

“It’s not like last time.” Beth asserted, tugging Hannah along. Hannah steadied herself, catching up to Beth’s speed.

“I know, I know. But what if something’s wrong, Beth? What if he’s not telling us something?”

“Josh tells us everything.”

“Beth, you can’t pretend things are okay right now when it’s so obvious they’re not.”

Beth stopped walking, and Hannah bumped into her side. She heaved a heavy sigh.

“I know, Hannah. But we have to trust him, okay? We can’t treat him like he’s a child, like he’s broken. Josh can handle himself, and we have to support and help him when we can, when he wants us to.” Beth said, not looking at her.

Hannah desperately wanted to cry.

But she didn’t. She nodded, slowly.

“I know. I just wish…”

“We could do more?”

“Yeah.”

Beth hesitated. “Me too.”

The pair kept walking, this time in silence, too afraid to talk more about Josh and their worries. Hannah thought back to the first incident, when they were twelve and Josh had locked himself in the bathroom for far longer than need be. The swift car ride to the hospital in silence. Crawling into the small, uncomfortable cot with him and reading aloud from The Hitchhiker’s Guide-- his favorite book. She remembered the first words he said to her, the first time he was whisked away to therapist after therapist and for a while things were normal. Then there was the second incident when he was fourteen and desperate and this time there was no silence in the car and no books to read to him.

After that, things changed. He pulled out of public school and rarely spoke, ate little at every meal, and Hannah remembered the days he seemed a little too quiet, or took a little too much time in the bathroom, and each incident sent her heart sailing to her throat and frightened tears drowned out rational thought until Josh was hugging her tight and reassuring her with mindless babble that he was okay. Her heart used to ache, a lot, when Josh seemed to hide from her and Beth and spend less and less time with his sisters.

She wondered why he came back to them, why he sought so hard to mend their once broken bond. But she was appreciative, and Beth was too, and although the three agreed that things could never be the way they were, they were going to try and make something work.

People talk a lot about unconditional love, and Hannah never had a doubt in her mind that she loved Josh unconditionally, and that she loved Beth unconditionally, and that her feelings were reciprocated because even when their parents were away and had no time to kiss them goodnight or protect them from the monsters that went bump in the night, they had each other.

Beth had froze, suddenly, and Hannah caught herself before bumping right back into her sister.

“What’s wrong?” Hannah asked quietly, and when she looked up she wanted to curse at herself.

The wendigo was ignoring them, mostly, shredding apart bits of a wolf, blood sticky on its claws and fangs, fur ripping away from flesh as the monster devoured its meal. Hannah resisted the urge to retch as the scent of fresh offal hit her senses, and she tore her eyes away from the sight. She pulled Beth’s hand back and the two took backwards steps the way they came when a second wendigo sauntered from the darkness of the tunnel.

Shit hit the fan.

Hannah remembered withdrawing the flare gun from her hoodie pocket, and she and Beth had a silent plan that worked ninety-nine percent of the time. Failure wasn’t an option when it came to wendigos.

She cocked the gun and Beth had steadied her crossbow, aiming for the wendigo that wasn’t feeding, and Hannah did the same. The girls made eye contact with each other, nodding.

Hannah shot first. Beth followed suit.

The wendigo they fired at let out angry screams as it was sent sailing backwards hard against the mine shaft walls. The second one with the dead animal looked up, screeching in response to the first, turning sharply in the direction of the twins.

“Oh fuck.” Beth said, grabbing Hannah’s hand. “We need to go.”

They ran back the way they came, feeding into the original cavernous room and dove down the far left tunnel, winding around as the wendigos gave hot pursuit. To Hannah’s surprise, Beth skidded to a stop, squeezing her hand.

“Beth?” Hannah asked, feeling her chest shake as her heart threatened to burst. Beth whipped around, eyes wide, the collected look on her face shattering as the wendigos howled in unison just around the corner.

“Dead end.” Beth said softly, and Hannah took that to soak in her surroundings.

They had entered another large, cavernous room with high ceilings that sported stalactites that dripped water down. The floor they were on dropped down in a jagged fashion to more abandoned mine tracks and carts below. It wasn’t a far fall, they weren’t high enough that falling would kill them, but entertaining the idea of jumping wasn’t favorable. Hannah took a sharp breath.

“What do we do?” Hannah asked. And for once, Beth didn’t have a prepared answer. Another howl. Hannah turned around to face the wendigos that now blocked the only way back. They hissed, spitting wildly. Hannah froze in place. Beth stiffened up next to her.

For a long moment, Hannah believed the wendigos would turn back around and leave them alone. But then it began to really sink into her that the wendigos were once upon a time human, and that alone made them smart enough to know that the girls didn’t have anywhere to go from here.

Except, maybe, down.

She stole a look down the drop again, calculating carefully what kind of pain they’d be in when they reach the bottom. She felt her bones shudder in protest. If she and Beth moved fast enough--

“Hannah.”

The brunette looked up to stare into Beth’s face, and found her sister’s demeanor had changed once more. She had drawn her crossbow again, and to Hannah’s surprise, a lighter. Beth’s eyes shone brightly in the darkness of the cavern, and her mouth contorted into a sad smile as she pressed a hand against Hannah’s chest.

“I love you, alright? I’m sorry.”

Time slowed.

Beth pushed her.

The fall was a lot less damaging than Hannah expected, maybe because all she could see or think about was Beth’s expression as she pushed her down, the quick turn of her back and the sound of arrows popping from the contraption. Crossbows were a bitch to reload. Beth was making a stupid sacrifice.

When Hannah felt the world stop spinning, she stared up into the stalactites that dripped condensation onto her face. She lost her glasses somewhere on the way down, and cursed silently when she realized it. Slowly, Hannah sat up, hoping not to irritate any injury she may have sustained.

Her limbs ached and she felt blood on her face.

Her chest tightened and she broke into a weak sob.

She wasn’t really sure how long she sat crying there, but eventually the tears stopped coming and she wiped away the tracks left behind, standing shakily on the cavern floor. Hannah wrapped her arms around herself, and although her surroundings were masked in a blur, she looked up towards where she fell from.

“Beth? Beth!” Hannah called, shuffling slowly to the base of the cliff. Silence.

The worst ideas planted themselves in Hannah’s head and she shuddered violently as they invaded her every working sensation. She stepped forward and kicked something. Glasses, a hinge hanging awkwardly from being crushed, the lenses covered in a thin layer of debris. Quickly, Hannah wiped it away, sticking them firmly on her face and looking back up. She couldn’t climb it, that was for sure. Her adrenaline was fading, and Hannah sucked in a breath as she felt a dull pain pulsating in her ankle. She cursed, listening to her voice echo against the mines.

She needed Beth here.

Her heart ached.

_Beth’s alright. She’s okay._ Hannah thought softly, fixing her gaze on any direction that made a sound. _Beth’s not dead. Beth’s alive. She's alive and she's_ okay.

Hannah emitted a soft whine, and she clamped a hand down hard over her mouth as more tremors took control of her, hot tears pricking against her eyelashes. Beth was okay. She had to be. But Beth was up against two wendigos, and Hannah wasn’t ready to find her alone.

She had to find Josh and Sam first. She had to leave and find the rendezvous point and _find them._

But what could she say to them?

A screech echoed off the mine walls and she quickly scanned her surroundings.

There was no time to mourn her sister, if Beth really wasn’t okay.

She had to go.

Hannah’s eyes fell on another tunnel on the far side of the cavern, seemingly pointed right. She steeled herself, desperately pushing away the last words her sister had said to her before pushing Hannah away from danger, and ran for it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading.


	13. Tommy Wiseau Gives No Advice and Kicking the Bucket's a Terrible Phrase

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! a long-awaited update!  
> sorry for the absence, guys. i've had an extremely busy month or so, what with finals and college apps and blah blah blah.  
> anyways, we're back! this one's short. next one's a mystery.

“I honestly think this is a postcard-perfect moment.” Josh says, staring up into the dirty, slightly ripped-into visage of Tommy Wiseau in The Room smoldering down at him.  
“Yeah. _Wiseau were here.”_ Sam says, arms crossed, standing right next to Josh as the two examine the poster. He perked an eyebrow, turning his head slightly to scrutinize the blonde, who was badly concealing a grin.  
“You son of a bitch, Sammy.” Josh finally says, laughter trailing his words.  
“Not gonna lie, I didn’t think I had that in me.” Sam was, for all intents and purposes, exhausted by the entirety of the situation. The long walk (and sometimes climb and jump) to find Tommy Wiseau’s stupid face in a stupid mine was the stupidest thing she had ever had to do. Not to mention the times they’ve had to stop, freeze, and prepare for the worst when they heard even the slightest echo down the tunnel, terrified of what may have been around the bend. But here they were, the rendezvous point, Tommy Wiseau a weirdly calming sign of sanctuary. Sam elbowed Josh.  
“Alright, now what?”  
Josh shrugged, eyes flicking down the tunnel, hoping to see his sisters circle round the bend and call out to him. “I was kind of hoping Hannah and Beth would be here already.”  
“Maybe they’re busy?”  
He scoffed. “If they’re busy, that’s not exactly a reassuring sign.” Unlike Tommy Wiseau, the rat bastard. “Okay, so we have two options. We can either stay here, hide, and wait for them to show up, which is our safest bet.”  
“And option two involves more exploration and hoping we come across your sisters?” Sam finished. He kind of hated that she could do that.  
“Yep. What do you say?”  
Sam went quiet for a minute, and Josh felt his heart rate pick up. On one hand, he believed the girls were safe, and that it’d be okay to hang out here with quite possibly the worst cult flick poster of all time. On the other hand, worry was beginning to seep into Josh’s head, and he had a really, really bad feeling rising in his chest.  
“Let’s go explore. I think Johnny here can handle hanging out alone for a while.”  
“Can he? Can he really?”  
Before Sam could retaliate, a scuffle sounded down the other side of the tunnel, behind Josh. Her eyes widened, and immediately she grabbed his hand.  
“Josh,” Sam squeaked out, and quickly Josh pushed her close to the boarded up wall Tommy Wiseau was nailed to, indicating the dug-out area behind it. Sam gave the boy an incredulous look. He rolled his eyes and shimmied behind the false wall first.  
There was a lot of things that made Josh uncomfortable, but being forced behind a poster of Tommy Wiseau chest-to-chest with a pretty girl probably took the cake for being absolute shit. Josh was not having it. Sam was, clearly, also not having it, pressing the side of her face against Josh’s chest while one foot hovered slightly above his own, testing him to try anything, which he wasn’t really in the mood for anyway.  
Another, closer scuffle. The two held their breathe, and Sam raised her face to lock eyes with Josh. His chest tightened seeing the fear in her eyes. She shouldn’t have come.  
“Josh? Sam?”  
A voice croaked out from the other side of the wall, and Josh felt his heart skip a beat. Hannah.  
Or, maybe it wasn’t.  
Whoever, whatever was on the other side let out a small sob, and Josh looked back down at Sam, whose expression began to melt from fear to concern. She stared back up at him, starting to speak with her eyes.  
 _“Hannah’s out there and we have to tell her we’re here.”_  
Josh retaliated. _“Might be a wendigo.”_  
 _“I’m not following. That’s Hannah.”_  
 _“You don’t understand. We’re not moving.”_  
Her foot came down on his, hard. He winced, holding in his breath, glaring at her.  
 _“Uncalled for, Sammy.”_  
 _“Move.”_  
Luckily for Josh, he didn’t have to start shimmying out of the hole, because Hannah’s face poked from around the other side of the wall, eyes large and full of tears. She sniffled.  
“Oh thank God.”  
“Hannah!” Sam whispered, beginning to twist and crawl out from behind the wall, falling into the brunette, who wrapped her in a tight hug. “You’re safe!”  
“So are you. I’m so--” Hannah paused as she began to cry more. “I’m so glad. I’ve been s-so scared.”  
Josh blinked, surprised at his sister, and then reality sunk in.  
“Where’s Beth?” Josh said. Sam pulled away from the girl, blinking, looking around, noticing for the first time that Beth wasn’t with them. Hannah began to cry again.  
Josh and Sam waited quietly as the twin began lamenting her story, beginning from when the four split up, to seeing the two wendigos, to Beth pushing Hannah off the ledge to save her.  
“I don’t know if she’s alive. I don’t want to know,” Hannah whispered between sobs, pushing her glasses up to wipe tears away from her eyes. “I can’t believe I just… left her.”  
Sam turned to look at Josh, who was, for the most part, still. His lips were pressed together, eyes darkening. Sam bit her lip, watching Hannah as she wept for her twin, a knot forming deep in her stomach.  
She kind of wished she could understand the feeling of losing someone you loved as much as Hannah loved Beth. Her mind went back to earlier that day, when Beth forced her way into her cabin and fired charming remarks at her, back to the convenience store, where Sam watched Beth casually flirting with the cashier…  
Her stomach dropped, and she felt the sensation of tears in her eyes, wiping them away, stepping forward to grab Hannah’s hand.  
“Hannah?” Sam began, slowly, smoothly. Hannah blinked at her, eyes wide and sad.  
“It’s my fault, Sam. It’s all my fault. If Beth didn’t try to be stupid and save me, she wouldn’t be--” the girl stopped, tremoring, shaking her head. Sam looked behind her at Josh, who only dug his hands into his vest pocket, avoiding her gaze. Sam wondered for a second what Josh was thinking, if he was as scared and broken as Hannah was, if thoughts of Beth were flooding his thoughts the way they flooded Sam’s.  
The three stood there, mostly quiet save for the sniffling of Hannah, the little drips of water and creaking and screeches that echoed down the mines, Tommy Wiseau looking down at them in wise silence.  
“We’re killing moonlight,” Josh finally said after a moment,and Sam seemed to be the only one that noticed the crack in his voice, the strain in his tone. Josh wasn’t looking at the girls. “We gotta keep moving. For Beth, alright?”  
Hannah nodded stiffly. “I can lead. This way.”  
The girl began to move slowly down the way she came, leaving Josh and Sam to stay behind. The boy took a step forward, and Sam took hold of his hand.  
“Hey,” she began, pulling him backwards as he tried to move forward. “Hang on a second.”  
“No time for that, Sammy.”  
“Josh, are you okay?”  
He stopped resisting for a second, turning back to look at the blonde, whose expression was worried, her free hand balled into a fist. He didn’t really have the energy to make fun of her for caring too much, because he was surprisingly grateful for it.  
Was he okay? He wasn’t too sure. Not many people cared to ask if he was. Especially pretty blondes that quite literally stumble into his life. But then again, Sam was probably just asking because there was a high chance his little sister was dead.  
“I’ll live, Sam.” He was lying.  
Sam frowned. “I know. But Beth…”  
“Beth’s gone. Face the facts now,” he hoped Hannah couldn’t hear him, because she wouldn’t believe him and his pessimism. Hell, Josh didn’t believe his own words. “We can’t stay here, Sam, or we’ll end up just like her. We have to stick to the plan.”  
Sam stared for a moment. “I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but you can’t expect me to believe that you can just move on.”  
“You’re right, I don’t wanna hear that. Let’s go.”  
“You can’t just run away from things that scare you.”  
“Holy shit, I’m not scared, Sam.” Josh’s voice began to rise, and he quickly looked around before stepping closer to the blonde, looking down at her, inches from her face. “I’m not fucking scared. I’m--”  
“Hey,” Hannah had walked back up the path, staring down at the two, Josh dropping his anger to turn to his sister. She blinked at them. “Sorry. You guys coming?”  
Josh turned to look at Sam, who gazed at him with a mixture of surprise and hurt. He frowned, and Sam gave him a new look that seemed to say “we’ll talk later.”  
“We’re coming.” Sam said flatly, and she released Josh’s hand, and Josh began to grope at the emptiness in surprise. She closed the gap between her and Hannah, walking ahead of the brunette, who protested at her speed.  
Josh heaved a sigh, turning to stare at the poster again, anger and sadness bubbling in his chest.  
“Got any advice, Johnny?”  
The poster didn’t reply, and Josh scoffed. “‘Course not. Sam was absolutely right.”  
He stopped talking to the poster, turning to face the path the girls had gone. Running from his problems.  
He began to walk.


	14. The Sweet, Sweet Smell of Rotting and Burning Flesh. Welcome to Hell’s Kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "hey amanda, why the heck do you either not update for months or update on back to back days"  
> good question! i have no idea.  
>  _bon appétit!_

Her ears were ringing and her face was wet.

Gross.

Beth sat up, pressing a hand to her forehead, feeling a lump the size of a jawbreaker against her scalp, dull pain resonating from her skull to her arms to her legs. She let out a groan and a string of expletives. Her vision was coming back slowly, blurred outlines of rocks becoming clear and jagged, the distinct wine red of blood staining her exposed knees. Blisters on her hands and the scent of charred flesh on her clothes.

_These jeans were like fifty dollars._

Beth cursed herself-- vanity was probably the last thing to think about right now.

More importantly, what the hell just happened?

She focused her thoughts on what was probably the last couple of hours-- nothing came back in full, really, just snapshots. Her pushing Hannah off a cliff. Firing her crossbow at the larger wendigo. Knocking over one of the oil barrels and waiting for the fuckers to get wet before throwing her lighter into the slick, black liquid. Catching on fire.

She tugged at a lock of dark hair to find the tips singed. Gingerly, she touched the pads of her fingers against her upper lip, drawing back blood. Beth took a long, slow look around the cavern she was in: man-made, with wooden pillars holding the rock up to keep from caving in. She had apparently fallen and hit her head against a minecart that sat rusting on the damaged track. Her crossbow wasn’t anywhere to be found. The tunnel behind her was caved-in. The tunnel ahead of her pitch black.

Beth stood up, steadying herself against the heavy cart, waiting for her head to stop spinning. She was, first of all, lost as balls, and second of all, alone. Two things you don’t want to be in the middle of the night in a labyrinth infested with monsters.

Her heart rate began to pick up. Beth wasn’t really aware of the sounds around her before, but they were loud and rumbling and sent chills down her spine, the screeches bouncing off the walls and ricocheting across miles of tunnels, the skittering sounds that could’ve been mice, could’ve been monsters, the steady dripping of water from somewhere deep within the heart of the mountain.

She released her grip on the minecart, inhaling, exhaling. Slowly Beth turned toe to face the only exit from the room, placing one foot in front of the other, ignoring the aches in her legs, the cuts in her knees beginning to reopen. She shuddered.

 _This blows,_ Beth thought bitterly, feeling nauseous as she entered the dimly lit tunnel, steadying herself against the wet wall of the tunnel mouth. She coughed, hard. _This is so, so gross._

She thought about Hannah. The look of fear and horror in her eyes when Beth shoved her off the cliff. A guilty knot tightened in her chest. To be honest, Beth didn’t know if Hannah would survive the drop. She acted on instinct, on some instinct that told her to save Hannah’s life. If Hannah had actually died in the fall...

She stopped thinking about Hannah.

Beth made her way further down the tunnel, keeping her ears and eyes open to watch for the jerky, spider-like movements of wendigos, stopping at the slightest indication of a howl. It was a slow walk, what with Beth’s every sense on-edge and having to stop every few feet to catch her breath and relax her tense, throbbing muscles. She didn’t know how long she had been walking until she came across the first body.

It was the unmistakable smell of rotting flesh that Beth caught first. She swallowed down the bile that threatened to come up her throat, stopping a ways away from the large, unmoving shape that was dropped, crumpled, on the rocky earth. She lifted the collar of her sweatshirt, pulling it over her mouth and nose and sniffed the scent of burnt hairs and gasoline on the cotton-- disgusting by all means, but not any worst than bubbling, molding flesh.

She shuffled slowly to the body, peering at the crumpled, broken heap in front of her. Her heart sank when she realized it was human. It sank even more when she saw it was one of the hikers that checked in a few weeks back, his neck broken, eyes wide in horror, mouth agape and overflowing with thick, dark blood. Beth felt tears prick the back of her eyes, and she quickly blinked them away to assess the situation, thankful that Hannah wasn’t with her to see this. Hannah probably would’ve screamed.

“Okay,” Beth said aloud, fully aware no one else could hear her-- or so she hoped. “Okay, Beth. Relax a little. It’s just…. It’s just a body.” Her hands were shaking.  
Just a body.

Except... a _human_ body. Beth and the others were used to seeing dead and dying animals-- the first sign of a human corpse, Victor would always make the kids wait as he took care of it, and that only happened twice in the years they’ve worked with him. Beth balled her hands into fists, hoping the tremors would stop long enough so she could inspect the poor guy.

She crouched down, looking closely at his face, frowning. _He must’ve been so scared. So alone._

There was a reason hikers weren’t allowed in the northern woods. Not like there were any measures to stop them from coming up-- her folks didn’t know about the wendigos, no one did.

She looked into the vast emptiness of his blue eyes, sadness choking her every instinct. He probably had a family, friends, people he came up here with for a fun summer getaway. Were they worried? Why’d he come up alone? What if he didn’t come up alone and just further down the tunnel she’d come across another body, and another and another--

Beth quickly closed his eyes, wincing as she felt how cold his flesh was. Awful. She didn’t really know what to do about his jaw, which was clearly broken, and the thought of any blood touching her was sickening to her stomach.

Beth, instead, resorted to the next idea she had: pickpocketing.

She felt a little guilty feeling around the guy’s pockets for a wallet. She wanted to shout out in victory upon finding it, but figured she had to respect the guy for lending her his credentials.

“Andrew Cruz,” Beth read aloud to the body, scrutinizing his driver’s license. “Damn. What a shitty way to go out.”

She sat there, staring down at Andrew’s face, gingerly pushing his mouth shut, avoiding any blood that gurgled out of his mouth with a scrunch of a nose and a few gags. Beth gently placed the wallet in the chest pocket of the guy’s flannel, standing up. A shitty way to go out. There wasn’t much else she could do for him, unless she could find a few matches and more oil to give the guy a proper funeral.

But she didn’t really have time to mourn Andrew Cruz or say a few words.

Beth had to get out of these goddamn mines.

She stood up, steadying again against the cave walls, taking a deep breath and regretting it, because she got a strong whiff of death and immediately threw up donuts on the dead man’s shoes. (She wished she could feel bad about that, but it kind of helped the smell.)  
Beth gave Andrew a parting peace-out sign, stepping over his broken corpse and continuing on the downward, twisting slope of the tunnel path, hoping to somehow, someway, get out alive.

If not for herself, she had to get out alive for Hannah and Josh, and Sam, and hell, even Delanie, because she had a date tomorrow and it would be pretty shitty if she got herself killed the night before.

  
\--

  
“I fell here,” Hannah said to Josh and Sam, who looked upwards towards the top of the ledge, staring at the yellow light that bounced effortlessly off the slick, dark mine walls. “Beth was up there.”

Josh pursed his lips, placing his hands on his hips, exhaling. “Well that looks like a bitch of a climb.”

“Yeah,” Sam said absently, stepping forward to size up the rocks. “A little slick, but it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Hold on.” Josh said, staring at the blonde’s back, who looked over her shoulder at him. “You’re not actually going to scale that, right?”

Sam thought for a second, turning around fully to face the siblings as they stared at her, eyes wide.

“You’re trying to get yourself killed.” Josh said as he studied the girl’s face, horrified to find that, yeah, she was absolutely serious.

“I’m not gonna. I can climb it.”

Josh found her reckless confidence both extremely hot and extremely horrifying. He turned to face Hannah, who stared at him for a long time, her face saying something like, don’t-let-Sam-die.

They already had one possible casualty. No need to have another.

But Samantha O’Donnell seemed dead set on climbing this wall.

There was only one solution.

“Alright, Sam. Let’s flip a coin.”

She raised an eyebrow at the boy, looking between the siblings. “A coin?” She asked, flatly.

“Yeah. Heads, you climb the wall. Tails, we stick together and find another way up there.”

Sam weighed her odds for a second, chewing her lower lip before nodding. “Okay. Fine.”

She kind of hated that he was trying to be protective of her. She was Sam Fucking O’Donnell. She was an experienced climber. She came face-to-face with a bunch of wendigos and lived. She stopped running, and Sam really wanted to contribute somehow to this wendigo-hunting party. Josh had his guns, Beth had her wits and a sweet crossbow, and Hannah was fast and a quickdraw with flares. Sam had climbing.

And she was not going to let her new, kind-of-badass friends stop her from doing it.

Josh had drawn a quarter from the pocket of his jeans, tossing it high in the air. Sam locked eyes with the coin, crossing her toes for heads--

“Tails.” Josh announced, looking down at the face of the coin. He looked up at Sam, and she noticed that the tense look in his eyes that he carried all night had melted away to look kind of… relieved? “Sorry, Sammy. Ohana means family, and family means--”

“Sammy’s gonna climb the wall.” Sam finished for him, smiling as she turned around to face the cliffside. Josh sputtered something but she ignored him, scrutinizing the wall, reaching up to touch the most comfortable handhold--

A set of arms locked around her waist and pulled her back. Sam let out a yelp.

“Joshua!”

“Coin said we’re finding another way outta here, Sammy! No wall!”

“I’m not some kid-- oh my god, let me go,” Sam protested, attempting to shimmy out of his arms. Josh had a pretty strong grip, much to her surprise, considering how lanky and sick he looked. She elbowed him, hard, in the ribs, and his grip loosened a little as he sucked in air.

“Shit, dude, you really gotta hold back when you strike. That hurts.” The boy had tightened his arms around her stomach again, this time lifting to force Sam on her toes. _Tall people suck._

“Good. Let me go, Josh. Let me climb the wall.”

“The wall’s stupid. You’re kind of stupid.”

“Yeah. That’s _why_ I’m going to climb the wall.”

Josh spun himself and Sam around to face Hannah, who had covered her mouth with one hand, watching the battle in amusement. “Hannah, help me out here. Tell Sam not to climb the wall.”

Sam was pretty relieved to see Hannah returning to her usual self, but she wondered if the girl was just tired and worn from the last few hours in these mines, wondered if she was losing herself and was trying to move on fast enough so she could survive just tonight.

“I actually think Sam could climb it if she wants.”

Sam looked up at the brunette, surprised, then craned her neck to study Josh’s face, whose deep, sunken, tired eyes were also growing wide in surprise, mouth a thin line. Sam rested her hands absentmindedly against his arms, waiting for him to retaliate against his sister.

“This is such a shitty idea, Han.” Josh finally said. Hannah looked at the pair, up and down, a small smile forming on her face.

“You know, I rock climb like, all the time, Joshy-Washy. I’ve climbed for years.” Sam said, struggling a moment against his iron-grip, which only tightened the more she moved.

“Please don’t let Joshy-Washy stick.”

For a second, Sam wondered if Josh just wasn’t going to let her go, and she couldn’t exactly tell if she wanted him to or not. But then Josh released his arms from around her waist and pulled away, shoving one hand into his pocket and waving the other one in the direction of the wall. His cheeks seemed to glow in the dim mine lighting, a shit-eating grin forming on his lips.

“Alright Sammy. Climb the fuckin’ wall. We’ll be down here, waiting, or something.”

Sam rolled her eyes, turning back to focus on the wall, carefully placing her feet where they would hold and grabbing onto rocks that held her weight. It wasn’t a super tall climb, and she finished it within minutes, pulling herself up and over the ledge.

Her eyes took a second to adjust to the bright flames that licked the tunnel walls in front of her. Sam quickly covered her mouth with her hand, eyes tearing up at the smell of gasoline and… burning flesh?

She almost didn’t notice the dying creatures within the fire, the shrieks they suddenly let out upon seeing Sam. She let out a yelp of surprise, scrambling to stand up.

They were charred, flesh coming off in chunks and peeling back like onion skin against the bones of the creatures. One struggled to stand, letting out a strangled gurgle while the other collapsed further into the fire. They had been up here, burning, for God knows how long.

No sign of Beth. Sam couldn’t tell if that was a good sign or not.

“Sammy! Sam, are you okay?” Sam turned her head at the sound of Josh’s voice, looking down over the ledge at the siblings on the floor. It was hard to read their expressions, but she could tell the two were, for all intents and purposes, terrified.

“I-I’m fine!” Sam shouted back, turning to look over at the wendigos, the one that was attempting to rise, stumbling and tripping over its dying counterpart with a bellow and a retching cough. “I think.” Sam whispered. She took a small step over to the wendigos, kicking something. Beth’s crossbow.

Sam was surprised to find that the weapon was so heavy, and she made her way back to the ledge to show it to the Washingtons. “I found Beth’s crossbow!”

“And Beth?” Hannah called up, her voice cracking.

“No Beth. I don’t think she’s up here.” Sam turned back to the wendigos, the stubborn, still-alive one, rising and falling repeatedly in the slick oil and hot flames. Her eyes flicked down the tunnel, the one Hannah said she and Beth had come down. An idea began to form in her head. She turned back to look down at Josh and Hannah. “I think she went back this way.”

“Sam, no.” Josh shouted, his words echoing off the cavern walls. “You can’t go down that tunnel alone.”

“Beth’s probably down there alone and still alive, Josh. I’m already up here. If I came back down, we’ll be running out of time.”

Josh fell quiet, turning to Hannah, and Sam watched the two speak in hushed tones. She figured she knew what they were thinking-- Sam was a rookie to this life, she’s never fought a wendigo before last week, hell, she didn’t even know they _existed_ until last week. Sam was unprepared, untrained, and scared out of her mind.

But she already came this far, and she had a crossbow now and two dying wendigos screaming at her angrily. Sam was, for the most part, ready for this as she could ever be.

“Sam,” Hannah was shouting now, and Sam snapped out of her thoughts to look down at the siblings. “We really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go alone.”

She bit her lip, looking back towards the tunnel, and the now-collapsed, whimpering wendigos, then back down at the two. “Neither do I.”

“Then come down now, okay?”

 _Fight or flight._ Sam thought.

She stood up, feeling the heat of the flames at her back, looking down across the wide expanse of the cavern and how small Josh and Hannah were from up on this ledge. 

_Fight or flight._

“Sorry about this, guys.” Sam called down to the siblings, and as soon as she said that the two shouted her name in unison. “I’ll meet up soon, okay? I’m going to find Beth.”

“Sam! Seriously, you’re going to get yourself killed!”

“God dammit! Sam, please!”

Sam felt a twinge of guilt at the two shouted up at her, and she turned to face the tunnels and the wendigos. The one that still moved looked up at her, giving her a weak snarl. She took a deep breath, leaping over the dying beasts.

And she made her way down the tunnel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly what kind of criticism do you think gordon ramsay would give about charred wendigo. probably too gamy. who knows. i know nothing about fine dining. yesterday i crushed dry ramen and poured it into my mouth like an animal
> 
> thanks for reading and, as always, stay tuned! love reading your comments. they fuel me, honestly.


	15. The Meaning of Feeling Alive, Unafraid, and Absolutely Fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: emotional rollercoaster straight ahead.  
> [give this a listen.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RzcUoe7Iy5g)

Josh was, for lack of a better word, _furious._

And wildly anxious.

Not that the anxiety and the anger was any new, but it was like both of those emotions skyrocketed to unbearable levels the moment Sam’s head disappeared from the ledge and she stopped calling down to them.

_She should have never climbed up this stupid rock._

_Fuck. She’s going to die._

Josh winced at the thought. What the hell was he supposed to do if he and Hannah found her dismembered body? What was he supposed to tell his parents, her parents? _“Hey, sorry but we got Sammy killed by wendigos. Crazy, right? I thought the same thing!”_

He tugged his stare away from the cliffside--there was no use, Sam had already made up her mind and left-- and turned to face his sister, who stared, wide-eyed, mouth agape at the ledge.

“Hannah,” Josh began, moving closer to grab hold of his little sister’s wrist. She jumped at his touch, tearing her eyes away to look at Josh.

“We have to save Sam,” Hannah said softly. “Josh, we _have_ to.”

 _We have to save Beth too, if there’s any chance both of them are still alive within the next hour,_ he thought, but didn’t say aloud to her. Hannah was starting to regain rational (or semi-rational, adrenaline spiked) thought after being pushed down the cliffside. The last thing he wanted to do was elevate her emotions; not that Sam being a reckless, stubborn kid was helping.

“I-- Okay,” Josh finally said, tugging at Hannah’s wrist, pulling her towards the tunnel they just came out of. “We’re going to circle around back to the mouth of the mines, and take the path you and Beth took originally. Hopefully we’ll get to Sam before any wendigo does.”

He began to move fast, dragging Hannah along. He suddenly felt fifteen years old again, back when they first discovered the mines and the monsters, back when Victor saved their asses from being wendigo breakfast, back when his mind was clogged with ideas of dying and the shadows winked at him from just behind the trees.

Still, none of that was new, just less since he began his new medication earlier that year. The shadow beasts were no longer a threat, not like the wendigos were. Dying, however, still looked a lot more favorable than any of the shit he was being put through tonight, but he figured he should give Hannah some hope.

After all, they just lost Beth.

They couldn’t lose Sam, too.

Josh took a quick glance over at Wiseau, not really realizing he had made it that far until the man was frowning down at them. He thought back to standing here, with Sam, highly impressed with her on-beat puns and stubborn pestering about his feelings.

_“You can’t just run away from things that scare you.”_

He really, really hated how right she was. He hated that he almost let her in, almost told her how he was really feeling rather than hide behind some stupid joke or lie. He really hated that Sam even had that effect on him, the effect of wanting to be a better Josh, the feeling that he wanted to actual goddamn change his life around rather than off himself at the end of this summer. No one had ever done that to him before, not even his sisters, who were always so damn supportive and kind about his emotions. Josh didn’t deserve Hannah and Beth. Josh certainly didn’t deserve Sam.

She made quite a star of herself, despite only being in their world a couple of weeks. Samantha O’Donnell was a fucking star. The sun itself. The brightest thing to hit this cursed ski resort since it opened.

He kind of wished he was more open with his feelings, then. Told her how much his heart ached to hear that Beth was probably killed in a fight. She went down in a blaze of glory, sure, but that didn’t mean much when he realized he lost his level-headed, funny, annoying little sister. Beth reminded him so much of himself, minus the mental health issues. She was a better Josh than Josh was.

Was. No, is. She is better, because Beth _had_ to be alive.

Or so he convinced himself. He figured if he pretended she was long enough, it would be less painful to come to terms with her death.

Josh was jerked out of his own thoughts, suddenly, when he felt Hannah pulling back on his arm.

“Josh,” Hannah hissed. “Slow down, will you?”

He paused, feeling his heart pumping hard in his chest, his breathing coming out shallow and labored. Hannah was in a similar state, but her face was contorted in pain and he watched the girl reach down to press her hands over an ankle. His eyes widened.

“You’re injured?”

“Just a sprain, Josh,” Hannah managed, breathlessly, leaning against a cracking, wooden pillar for some support. “I’ll be okay. Just need to slow down a bit.”

Josh stared at Hannah for a moment, watching her occupied with massaging her calves, face a grimace, little tracks of tears that stood out against the dirt that dusted her cheeks. Her lips were dry and cracking, and her eyes were larger than usual and red around the edges, hair falling out of her braid in long, angry strands. Her nose had been bleeding, and her glasses hung awkwardly on her face, one arm broken. She looked like shit. She probably felt like shit. Her twin and new best friend were somewhere along the lines of dead.

“Han?”

Hannah looked up at Josh, her head lolling to one side in curiosity.

“I know you said you’ll be okay, but… are you really?” The words felt awkward on his tongue, stumbling around in his head before spilling out. He wasn’t much of an empathetic guy that cared about people’s feelings. But hell, this was _Hannah,_ and he figured he owed her this much after all the years of worry and fear he’d put her through.

Hannah didn’t say anything for a moment, standing up straight and undoing her braid to fix the mess. She looked at him, eyes locked on his, like she was searching for something that wasn’t there. She licked her lips, contemplative, a hand pushing dark locks out of her eyes as she went to work on the braid.

“I think you want me to say I am,” Hannah finally said, her voice barely reaching a whisper. Josh felt his heart sink at the response. “You don’t want to really acknowledge that other people feel what you feel, huh?”

“Kinda kicking me in the balls here, Han.”

“Sorry,” She paused. “But I’m tired of saying I’m fine when I’m really not. You know the feeling, right? You say you’re fine _all the time,_ but I’m not dumb, Josh. I know you’re not.”

He wanted to tuck his tail between his legs and cower away. But another part of him stayed there, eager to listen to his sister. She didn’t wait for him to say anything before continuing.

“I want to be here for you, you know. I know… I know I can’t understand what’s going on in your head or fix them with a few words. But, God, you’re my only brother and I love you and--” her voice began to crack, and Hannah stopped braiding her hair to wipe away stray, angry tears that dripped down her nose. “I’m so scared. _I almost lost you,_ so many times, and even though you’re standing right in front of me and you’re alive, I can’t help but feel that you’re _gone.”_

Josh waited, patiently, for Hannah to wipe away more of those tears, looking away from him to continue to mess with her almost perfect braid. He inhaled, deeply.

“I’m sorry, Hannah.”

“I know you are.”

“I’m trying.”

“I know you are.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, numbnuts.” Her voice cracked again, this time in a little giggle.

For a minute, it was like nothing else mattered in the world but the two of them. It hurt, Josh realized then, to hear those words from his sister. _Alive but still gone._ He didn’t realize he was that bad. He made a mental note for himself in that moment, while he waited for Hannah to finish her braid and stop her tears. Give Dr. Hill a call.

“Come on,” Josh said, extending a hand to her, noticing for the first time how much he was shaking. “We’ve gotta be heroes right now. For Beth and Sam, okay?”

Hannah grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze, smiling, unwavering. Josh was proud of Hannah, he realized, in how she could act so brave even when she felt so broken. He slowed his pace this time, still keeping it quick but more bearable for Hannah’s sprain, listening closely for any sound that might throw them off.

“For the record,” Josh began, looking over his shoulder at Hannah, who frowned at him, puzzled. “I’m not fine. I haven’t been fine in a really long time.”

Hannah didn’t say anything for a long time, keeping up pace with Josh. He wondered if he somehow fucked that up.

“For the record, neither am I.”

-

Sam didn’t really realize how terrifying the mines were until she was really alone, exploring its depths by herself. She was kind of starting to miss Josh and his shitty jokes.

Kind of.

For the eighth (ninth?) time since she began walking, she heard another low, angry scream from somewhere behind her, and she wondered if the dying wendigos had managed to crawl out of the flames that were swallowing them up and followed her. She stood, still as a board, waiting for something to jump out and scare her.

Nothing. Of course.

 _Maybe I’m just psyching myself out,_ Sam thought, pressing onwards down the tunnel, shimmying around a stalled minecart in the middle of the path. _Maybe I’m just freaking out a little because why the hell did I decide to go down here alone? Oh, right! I wanted to play badass for a few minutes._

Sam felt kind of guilty, thinking back to how scared Josh and Hannah had sounded when she made the conscious (and terrible) choice to run down the tunnel. Not exactly a good idea, considering all Sam really had was a weapon she didn’t even know how to use. But the choice was made up, and Sam figured that going back and checking to see if the two were still there sounded worse than moving on forward.

If she thinks she’s moving forward. She needed a map.

Sam gasped a little as she saw the mouth of the tunnel in front of her, picking up the pace and finding herself in a large, spacious cavern. two tunnels to her left, one straight ahead. She stepped into the room, inspecting the stacked up boxes and barrels of oil. A sound-- the scuffling of feet-- resounded down the middle tunnel behind her, and Sam froze up. There were a few possible options on what that was, and Sam prayed that it was who she was looking for.

Slowly, Sam made her way to the entrance of the tunnel, peering into the darkness, fidgeting with the weight of Beth’s crossbow in her hands. She’d watched Beth load the weapon, but never did she see her fire it. Sam made a second prayer that she wouldn’t _have_ to fire it.

She made her way down the tunnel, stepping over twisted pieces of mine rails, climbing over a minecart that had derailed and sat on its side in the middle of the already cramped tunnel. A hiking shoe. The sight of it made Sam shudder in fear, and she hefted the crossbow to her chest.

More scuffling. Much closer.

Sam stopped moving forward, pressing herself against the cold wall of the mine. Silence.

Maybe she was just imagining it--

“Ah!”

Sam didn’t really stop to think or process who was standing in front of her, having thrown the crossbow at the thing in front of her and leaping a few feet backwards, poised to run. A few curses thrown out from the person. Beth was glaring at her, crossbow at her feet.

Neither of the girls moved as they both realized who they were looking at. Beth’s angry glare melted into one of confusion, then relief. Sam felt two of those three emotions.

“Sam,” Beth said, breathlessly, moving slowly to the girl and grabbing her face with both hands. Her brown eyes grew to the size of saucers, mouth open wide in shock. “Holy shit. Sam!”

“Beth. Beth oh my god Beth.” Sam managed to say. Beth was smiling now, her hands leaving Sam’s face and wrapping tight around her chest, an excited laugh escaping her. Sam quickly put her arms around the girl’s back in response, breathing in the distinct smell of fire in her sweatshirt.

“Hannah-- We-- we thought you were dead,” Sam said, shock taking over her senses at the reunion with the twin. She didn’t really believe Beth was dead as soon as she found the crossbow, but seeing her--alive-- in front of her…

“I-I’m not dead. And did you say _Hannah?_ Is Hannah alright?” Beth began to babble and shake, pulling away from Sam to place her arms firmly on the girl’s shoulders, eyes wide with hope. Sam nodded quickly.

“Yes. And you! You’re alright.” There was relief in her voice.

“I’m alright, my head hurts and I think I got a concussion, but fuck yeah I’m still kicking,” Beth winked at her, and then the wink and playfulness in her tone evaporated instantaneously. “And you… Sam, why the hell are you alone?”

Sam opened her mouth to retaliate, but figured “I just kind of felt like being independent,” wasn’t going to fly with the seasoned wendigo hunter. Beth’s hands came back up to Sam’s face, squeezing her cheeks.

“Ow, oh my gosh,” Sam said from under the girl’s squeezing. “Beth, pleathe let go.”

“Samantha. You should not be down here by yourself young lady.” She released her face, frowning like a concerned mother. “It’s dangerous. You could’ve gotten badly hurt or killed.”

Sam sighed. “I-I know. But I couldn’t just stand the idea of you being dead.”

A return sigh. “You could be dead right now, too. That was so dumb and reckless.”

Sam felt the words like a punch to the gut, tearing her eyes away from Beth’s face to study the rocks around them.

“And,” Beth continued, making Sam wince. “Very, very cool and brave. Thank you for coming back for me. Seriously.”

The two girls locked eyes again, and Sam returned Beth’s grin. Beth moved backwards to pick up the crossbow that Sam had thrown at her, inspecting the instrument before looking back up at Sam, laughing. “Although, if I were a wendigo, I don’t think throwing your only weapon at me would’ve saved you.”

Sam snorted, turning back to face the way she came. “Uh, probably not. Can we please get the fuck out of here?”

“Rodger Dodger.”

The two girls fell silent as they made their way back up the tunnel, only speaking again when they got to the original room that branched off. Beth nodded her head upon entering, inspecting parts of it again.

“I’m starting to remember things. I kind of woke up at the end of that center tunnel--” she pointed to the tunnel they just came out of. “Must’ve been running from the wendigos so fast that in the shock I hit my head and blacked out. On a mine cart. I’m impressed.”

“Impressed you passed out?” Sam questioned.

“No. Impressed that I managed to get knocked out by a stable mine cart in a room that ended in a dead end.”

Beth nudged Sam in the shoulder, pointing to the tunnel on the other side of them. “Alright, so I’m thinking we go this way and circle around to find Josh and Hannah. They’re okay, right?”

“Josh and Hannah? Yes. They’re…” Sam sighed. “They’re fine. I’m an asshole.”

“Bold choice of words,” Beth noted. “Wanna talk about it?”

Sam laughed. “Not much to say except that. They deserve an apology.”

Beth smiled at Sam, cocking her head to the tunnel. “Alright. Then let’s go find them so you can say sorry.”

Sam really appreciated Beth and her cool way of talking and being snarky. She really was a lot like Josh, and it didn’t really surprise her how well the siblings got along with each other.

The walk up the tunnel seemed quicker than how it was the entire night-- maybe Sam was just getting used to it, the same dark walls closing in around her for hours, the screams that were once the wind resounding off every crevice. Sam almost forgot that this was her first time down in the mines, that these mines were probably not even a fraction of what they had to explore on the mountain. Soon, cool, summer wind was kissing her cheeks, and Sam inhaled the fresh air, appreciative to see moonlight just a few feet in front of her.

The two girls paused at the mine entrance, breathing in the night air, listening for the sound of wendigos as they rested.

“You know something, Sam?” Beth suddenly said, staring out into the trees, arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the cool walls of the mine.

“What?”

Beth smiled, tearing her eyes away from the outside, studying Sam’s face for a second with pursed lips, her eyebrows knit together. She clicked her tongue.

“Remember when I told you that I hated hunting wendigos? That this stuff scared me?”

Sam nodded, wondering where the girl was going with this. Beth broke eye contact with Sam again to stare out into the woods.

“Honestly? It’s not the wendigos that scare me. I’m scared of death. Whether I die or someone else I love dies. That’s what’s really scary about all of this,” Beth inhaled, chewing on her lower lip, hesitating. “So, when Hannah and I were alone up on that ledge, I felt my worst fears coming true. And yet, I’m still standing here. And Hannah’s still alive, and Josh is still alive, and you, Sam, you’re alive.”

Sam stared at Beth, who began to tug on her bangs. “I didn’t really grasp the concept of living until I was so afraid of dying. Poetic, right?”

Silence filled the space between them, and Sam wondered for a minute what Beth thought about when she wasn’t trying to be the most rational person in the room. Sam felt a swell of new appreciation for the girl in front of her. A girl so afraid of death that she forced herself to start living. That was much braver than deciding to fight wendigos.

Sam, suddenly, began to understand.

“Hey,” Beth suddenly said, tearing her eyes away from the forest to look behind Sam, grinning as if she didn’t just spill her darkest secrets to her. “Look’s like the party bus came to town.”

Sam felt her heart rate begin to rise, and she turned around slowly, eyes wide at Josh and Hannah, who gaped at the two of them like they were ghosts. Sam’s face began to work on its own, her mouth breaking into a large grin, relief choking her every sense.

“Hannah, Josh,” Sam managed to say, and suddenly she felt Hannah’s arms around her in a tight embrace and she burst into a broken laugh, unsure if she wanted to cry tears of relief or tears of sadness. “Sorry for being a stubborn dick.”

“That’s okay,” Hannah was speaking between sobs, her whole body trembling. “You’re my stubborn dick.” Hannah pulled away from Sam, grinning, and she turned to look at her sister, eye full of tears.

“Hi Hannah,” Beth said, her voice cracking, eyes welling up with tears at the sight of her twin. “So happy to see you’re not dead.”

Hannah quickly abandoned Sam’s side to rejoin her sister, crying out in joy, blubbering into her shoulder little words that meant nothing. Beth had buried her face within the girl’s shoulder, loud, retching sobs emitting from her, and Sam watched the twins reuniting and could almost feel their love from where she stood. She jumped a little when she felt an arm nudging into her side, surprised to find Josh beside her.

She stole a glance up at the boy’s profile, his face unreadable save for the wet, glassy look in his stare. Sam returned his nudge, whispering.

“Aren’t you going to greet your sister?”

“Later. She’s kind of busy right now,” Josh turned to look down at Sam, sighing. “You’re seriously the worst, though. I almost had a heart attack when you went dancing down the tunnel by yourself.”

 _“Aw._ Does Josh Washington care about me?” Sam teased. Josh stared down at her, quiet, before speaking so low only Sam could hear.

“Yes.”

Sam didn’t have anything to retaliate with, surprised at the seriousness in his voice. _Yes._ He cared about her. He sounded so sure of it, so final with his words, no hint of a joke or tease in it, and for some reason that one word made her heart skip a beat. He had stopped looking at her, watching the twins as they hugged and wept into each other’s arms, shoving his hands deep within his vest, his expression unreadable once again. Sam wondered for a second if she imagined him saying that.

The sound of a wendigo ripped Sam away from her thoughts.

The twins froze, eyes full of tears and horror at the sound, and Josh tensed up next to her, reaching slowly for the gun slung over his shoulder. Hannah and Beth were staring at them-- _no,_ past them. The hairs on her neck stood on end.

For a moment, nothing happened, and Sam wondered if the monster had lost interest in them. But then she saw the hand, ghastly thin and a translucent pale color, sharp, jagged, blood crusted nails reaching between her and Josh. Josh made quick eye contact with her, and Sam could see the worry in his eyes. Then the monster's face came between them, and Sam stopped breathing.

She didn’t think it would look so _human._

It was a monster, absolutely, from the greying, pallid skin that was stretched over an unhinging jaw, sharp, wolf-like teeth jutting out of its gums like swords. The eyes were the worst part, Sam realized, as she looked into eyes that were a warm shade of brown beneath the grey film. She also realized, after a moment, that this wendigo was twice as large as the one that passed between her and Josh in the tunnels earlier. Three times as large as the two that lay burning on the cliff.

The creature let out a growl, sniffing the air, and Sam turned her eyes back on the twins, still tight in each other’s embrace, Hannah biting her lips to keep from screaming, Beth gazing at the thing like she knew who it was, brows furrowed and eyes locked on it in concentration.

Then came the first gunshot.

And Sam found herself pinned against the mine wall, a strong, mutant hand over her chest, crushing into her ribcage. An angry scream that was a cacophonic blend of man and beast. Another gunshot. Pain shooting across her chest. Hands pulling on her.

Then she saw the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading.


	16. The Makings of a Good First Impression and the Beginnings of a Beautiful Friendship

His first mistake was shooting the Makkapitew in the head.

At least, Josh was pretty sure it was the Makkapitew, from the odd and vague descriptions Victor had left the kids.

_ “The Makkapitew’s a big’un. The largest of the wendigos, looks like a real monster unlike the smaller kinds. Their fuckin’ king,” _ the man had said, slurring his words between sips of whiskey. The Washingtons had sat across from him in the creepy old cabin on the couch, stirring up loose dust as they watched the old man throw back his flask, coughing between each drink.  _ “Listen to me, kids. If you ever think you see the beast, don’t touch it. Don’t go near it. The Makkapitew ain’t like the rest of ‘em. It’ll rip you apart without hesitating once.” _

It slammed Sam against the wall almost instantaneously after the shot, screaming into her face. Josh lost control of his legs then, watching the girl get lifted up and shoved roughly against the rocks, heart leaping into his throat, stopping Josh from shouting anything.

All he could do was watch, and that was going to kill him.

It was lucky for him-- and, more importantly, Sam-- that Hannah and Beth were able to react and not just fucking stare. Hannah fumbled for her flare gun immediately, and Beth drew back and nocked an arrow in her bow. The creature screamed again, it's salivating mouth widening as it drew nearer and nearer to the flesh on Sam’s neck. Josh couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t believe this was happening, that he was a big enough idiot to engage the wendigo of all wendigos and it was probably going to cost Sam’s life.

Hannah fired her flare gun. Into the Makkapitew’s eye. Josh suddenly remembered how to move.

He lifted his shotgun again when the wendigo reeled back, crying out in pain, and to Josh’s horror closed down its hand around Sam’s stomach, making the girl yelp in pain. Quickly, Josh aimed for the creature’s shoulder, and the fire was enough to blast it back to the wall, much closer to Sam than anyone had hoped for, and he was lucky that Hannah and Beth were close enough to grab Sam by both of her arms and haul her the few feet out of the mines. Josh turned back to face the Makkapitew, who was slowly rising from its position on the ground. Josh’s breathing hitched. His entire body froze as it raised its ugly head, staring at him, one eye plastered shut by glowing sulfur, the teeth on the same side of it's face broken and it's lip had begun to rip into a scarred grin. The air stunk of burning flesh.

It was  _ smiling _ at him.

“Josh!” Hannah cried out, grabbing hold of the back of his vest and yanking him backwards. Josh blinked, the sudden motion causing his legs to give out, and he fell backwards onto the floor of the mine, still staring at the wendigo, who only stared back, just smiling so wide at him, the weak, wheezing noises emitting from the beast sounding so eerily like laughter--

_ Why isn’t it trying to kill me? _

He felt something sharp hit his face, and he turned to the source, face to face with Hannah, whose eyes were wide and wild. She was saying something, but he wasn’t sure what because all he could hear was that laughter…

Hannah had helped him to his feet and fired a second flare at the monster, dragging Josh away from the wendigo and the mines and through the trees, colliding with branches and rocks and Hannah herself along the way. Everything seemed to move so slow, so unrealistically, like he was floating in a nightmare that he couldn’t wake up from.

Then it was like he snapped back into reality like a rubber band. The fogginess in his mine dissipated as quickly as it had enveloped him. The floor was back, the trees flew by in droves, and the crunching of pine leaves and dirt beneath his feet were suddenly real. He looked down, seeing Hannah’s hand gripping his tightly, and he had no idea where they were, or where Beth and Sam were, or why they weren’t in the mines.

“Hannah--” Josh began, inhaling sharply as she dragged him roughly around a large pine upon hearing the reverberating scream of the Makkapitew through the woods. She pressed herself hard against it, struggling to take a breath, grinding her teeth together to stop herself from making any noise over her smarting ankle. Josh looked around their surroundings. “Hannah?”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide in fear glowing in the bright light of the moon. “Josh,” she began, gulping to work around some dryness in her throat. “Holy shit, are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” Josh said, dumbfounded, listening to the sounds of the forest, squeezing his hands open and shut over and over to make sure he was real. “I’m… fuck. Fuck, I think I am.”

“You don’t sound… too happy about it…” Hannah gave her brother a sympathetic smile, and Josh just stared at her, mouth opening and closing as he tried to fish for words around him, tying them together back into a web of understanding.

“Sam.”

“Beth’s getting her back to the cabin. Sam was still conscious and fighting when we got her away, but she was losing a lot of blood.”

“That was my fault.”

“You didn’t know that it was going to go for her.”

“I still put her in danger.”

“Josh--”

“Don’t ‘Josh’ me!” He didn’t mean to raise his voice, and he felt a twinge of guilt when Hannah winced. He swallowed, hard. “I’m… Fuck, Han, I’m so sorry. I don’t-- I couldn’t--”

“It’s okay, Josh. We… we have to go. It’s just an hour or so until dawn, we can’t stand around and wait.”

She grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze, leading him back through the trees. Josh looked up at the sky, the deep blue of the night dusted with glittering stars. He let out a tired laugh.

“When the hell did you get so grown up?”

“When we realized that that thing was the… you know what.” Hannah’s voice lowered as she said the last part, looking around as if the Makkapitew was listening in on their conversation, ready to pop out from the trees and rip them apart. “Josh, I’m scared.”

“Ditto.”

They walked briskly, now, through the forest, not stopping to appreciate the still silence of the trees as the mountain began to rise for another day. A bird chirped at the pair, irritably, glaring down at them as if accusing the two for the little drops of blood that dribbled along the path they followed. Josh couldn’t help but think he and Hannah were like Hansel and Gretel, following a grotesque trail of crumbs back to their home. Soon they crested the final hill of the trail, the dark cabin rising out of the trees like a safe haven, and the two began to run, collapsing through the front door.

Victor and Beth looked up from where they were standing over the couch, an unconscious Sam laying across it. Josh shut the cabin door, leaning against the solid wood, thankful that he and the girls somehow made it out of those mines, alive. Victor was narrowing his eyes at the kids.

“Welcome back,” he said gruffly, turning his attention back to Sam, whose breathing came in shallow gulps of air. “She took quite a puncture, this one.”

“Vic says she probably passed out from all the blood loss,” Beth said, and Josh finally noticed the blood that soaked her sweatshirt and her pants, and the blood that was dribbled in tiny, drying dots all over the wooden floor, and the wet towels in the bin at Victor’s feet, soaking in pink-tinged water. 

Josh thought he was going to be sick. 

He stole a look at Sam, wincing. Beth and Victor had done a not too shabby, unprofessional job of wrapping bandages around where she got stabbed, and even though Josh knew that what Sam really needed was real medical attention, he was relieved that she was still breathing. After all, Sam O’Donnell was too much of a good person to get killed by a wendigo. Let alone the Makkapitew.

The Makkapitew. Right.

Josh turned his gaze back on the old man, wondering if Beth filled him in on the details of them coming across the beast, wondering if he was coming up with a game plan to go hunt it. This was the creature that Victor had been hunting solely for years, a plan of vengeance for his own grandfather and to protect the mountain. Trapping the Makkapitew was all Victor wanted, and now the Washington kids knew what it looked like and where it was.

Josh stole a glance over to Hannah, and she was clearly thinking the same thing, biting her lip in contemplation. The two turned their gaze to Beth, who stared right back at them, and Josh could tell that she didn’t breathe a word about the monster to the old hunter. She had waited for them.

“Hey, Victor?” Josh began, clearing his throat. The old man looked up from the injured Sam, quizzically. “We, ah, have something to tell you. About the wendigo that attacked Sammy.”

Josh kind of regretted calling her Sammy then, because he saw Hannah suddenly smile pleasantly out of the corner of his eye, and he did  _ not _ like the way she did so.

Victor nodded his head for Josh to continue, and Josh did.

“It was the Makkapitew.”

Josh, Hannah, and Beth began to relay what they saw to the old man, each person filling in details that one of the others left out, exaggerating it's stature and the way it moved through gesticulations while the old man listened patiently, his eyes seeming to fog over in deep thought. After giving him the description, Victor sat quietly on the coffee table, licking his lips, not meeting the expectant gazes of the Washington kids.

“You really think you saw the bastard,” Victor said softly, withdrawing his flask from his coat pocket, unscrewing the lid, and throwing back the warm, outdated whiskey he always carried on hand. “The Makkapitew.”

“One-hundred percent, no bullshit,” Josh said. Victor looked at him out of the corner of his eye, and Josh realized that the sun was rising, the dark room slowly glowing in a soft, dewy blue. Victor didn’t speak for a long time.

Slowly, the old man rose from where he sat, tugging his hat firmly over downy, grey hairs, scratching at the patches of hair that jutted from his jawline. He let out an irritated sigh.

“I’ll be away for a few hours. Watch your friend. Make sure she eats or drinks something when she wakes up. Oh, and Hannah? Get that leg checked out. You’re no good limpin’.”

And the old man was gone, leaving the three Washingtons alone with an unconscious O’Donnell.

-

Sam was cold.

She inhaled, slowly, not opening her eyes, taking in the familiar scent of gasoline and decay. Her abdomen was torturing her, sharp pain creeping into her every sense. Sam let out an uncomfortable groan, finally blinking up at the cabin ceiling, the room bathed in the white light of day.

She turned her head, surprised (but comforted) to find Josh sitting in the dirty recliner across from her, eyes scanning a journal, a pen jutting out of his mouth. He sat, one leg crossed under the other, his free hand drumming absently on his knee. Sam watched him for a minute, admiring the intensity on the boy’s face as he read through his journal, green pools glittering as the cogs in his head turned in deep thought. Sam cleared her throat. Josh looked up, briefly, then went back to his notes. It took him another second to look up again, eyes widening, as he finally realized that Sam was awake. The pen fell from his mouth.

“Sammy,” he breathed.

“Hi,” Sam croaked, her voice hoarse and her throat dry. She began to sit up from the couch, and Josh leapt from the recliner to gently grab her shoulders and push her back into the cushions.

“Don’t move, dumbass,” Josh said, and Sam winced a little as her back settled back into the couch, her stomach protesting the motion. For a moment, Josh didn’t move his arms, still holding her shoulders. He was looking down into her face, studying her, and Sam suddenly felt so exposed under the intensity of his gaze. Josh began to crack a smile, releasing his loose grip on her shoulders, leaning back.

“Well, well. It’s about time the sun decided to rise.”

Sam started to laugh, but winced again as her aching body discouraged the sound. She let out a bitter groan.

“Cut to the chase, Washington. What happened to me?”

Josh had settled in comfortably on the couch, sitting nearly on the ledge near her hips. He patted her leg, the smile on his face contorting into something forced. “Nothing too bad. I mean, you’re still alive. Just a bit of a wendigo problem. Like a Sam-kabob, almost.”

“Reassuring.”

“It’s nothing you can’t handle I’m sure,” Josh said with a scoff. “I mean, you did pretty well for a rookie.”

Sam grinned, pleased at the compliment. “I know, right? It’s like I’m one of the guys now.”

Josh let out a soft laugh, running a hand through his dark curls, falling quiet as a stern expression came over his face. “Yeah, let’s not joke about that. You should be in a hospital. Away from here.”

_ Away from here. _ The words made Sam’s heart drop. She opened her mouth to speak again, but Josh beat her to it, his eyes focused on the other side of the cabin.

“This mountain’s dangerous, Sammy. We shouldn’t have taken you with us.”

Sam wanted to protest, but she was more-or-less a sitting duck, recovering from an injury, vulnerable to the only other person in the cabin: Josh. She felt terrible, she realized, staring up at the hunter, who seemed to be so torn up about getting Sam hurt. And yet, he was still shrouded in so much mystery, so closed off from her while his sisters opened up their world to Sam. Josh Washington was a difficult puzzle to crack, and although she could tell he was trying to separate himself from her, Sam just grew more and more intrigued. Gruffly, Sam sat up, wincing through the pain, ignoring the protests from the boy until she was up and staring directly at him, a frown on her face.

“I don’t get you,” Sam said plainly. Josh blinked, surprised. “I don’t understand you, Josh.”

“Welcome to the club.” She wanted to punch him for his weird, twisted humor.

“You can be so fake, you know. Sometimes you’re funny and flirty and seem like a genuinely good guy, but then you get so moody and I don’t even know if these two parts of you are really one Josh.” She continued.

Josh nodded at the statement. “Go on.”

“And you just act like you’re okay with that.”

“I know.”

“Do you ever get tired of pretending?”

“Do you ever get tired of  _ living, _ Sam?” Josh suddenly blurted, his eyes narrowing. Sam stopped her interrogation, the anger rising in her chest bubbling away. “Tell me that you want to kill yourself.”

“I--” Sam was cut off, suddenly, by another outburst from him.

“You really think you want to know the real me or whatever bullshit? I’m not exactly a fucking superhero,  _ Sammy. _ I’m a goddamn trainwreck, and it’s a  _ goddamn struggle _ to get up every morning and pretend I feel at the top of my game because to tell you the truth, I’d  _ love _ to take the shotgun in that drawer and plug a bullet in my fucked-up head.” Josh had stood up, violently, pushing himself away from Sam to stand at the far end of the cabin, hands balled into fists.

Sam stared, slack-jawed. Her vision rocked, and she leaned into the couch to steady herself, eyes still trained on the Washington boy, whose expression contorted in pain. He took a step back into the wall, exhaling.

“Fuck,” Josh suddenly said, looking away from Sam, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“Josh,” Sam found her voice again, speaking low, hoping not to stir up the storm that rumbled between them, the resentment and irritation she had with Josh being replaced with clarity about the situation. Josh Washington wasn’t a mystery to be solved.

“D-don’t talk to me,” Josh managed after a moment. “You don’t have to say it.”

“Say what?”

He looked up, surprised, eyes darkening as he watched her. “That I’m fucked up and belong in an institution.”

Sam hesitated, unsure of her words, unsure what effect they’d have on him. “I never thought that. Not even for a second.”

An uneasy laugh. “Right, right. You’re too nice of a person to think I’m a mess, Sammy.”

“I don’t think you’re a mess,” she was tired, she realized. “I just… I just want to know you, Josh. You just insist on pushing me away. I mean, I know we don’t really know each other, but it’s pretty damn hard to try be your friend.”

“Kind of part of my schtick, actually. Suave, mysterious, extremely sexy and emotionally unstable. Hard to make friends with. Like those guys from Supernatural or something.”

He had calmed down, and Sam let out a sigh of relief, smiling at him and patting the couch.

“I guess. But I’d kind of like to make an effort.”

Josh looked down at her, and Sam was worried he wouldn’t come any closer, not that she was going to force him to. But to her pleasant surprise, Josh walked back to her, sitting opposite from her in his recliner, stiff. Neither spoke for a long time, the silence in the cabin being replaced with the gentle sound of the wind rustling the trees, the birds chirping outside the window.

“Alright,” Josh broke the silence, leaning forward in his recliner, placing his elbows on his knees. “So you really want to try and be friends or whatever, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

“You have poor taste.”

She narrowed her eyes, and Josh began to grin.

“Please be serious for like, five seconds.” Sam stated, and Josh’s grin only grew wider.

“You’re  _ so _ cute when you’re serious. I’m smitten, Sammy. Swooning right now.”

She snorted, ignoring the fluttering in her chest that his stupid joke caused.

“You’re right, Washington. I have really poor taste.”

“Damn right you do. Thanks for finally admitting it.”

“Can’t you just talk to me normally? Like, how are you doing right now?”

Josh paused, thinking, looking at Sam with subtle joy in his eyes. His smile had begun to flee.

“Well, I just had a meltdown in front of a pretty girl, for starters. I haven’t slept in like fourteen hours, and I don’t know if the way you look at me is erotic or not, but it’s certainly making me feel a lot better.” Josh began, and Sam quirked a brow at him, waiting for him to continue. Josh smiled again.

“I think, Sammy, I’m doing just fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!


	17. Despite All Your Faults, You're Still Worthy of Being Loved. Or Something Else Equally Cheesy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy day-after-valentine's-day day! enjoy your clearance chocolate and a nice wholesome fluff chapter!  
> do not be fooled though, my friends. we're gonna get the ball rolling here pretty soon.  
> after all, there's still a makkapitew that needs to be dealt with.

For a while, Sam and Josh didn’t speak to each other. Josh skimmed the notes in his journal, Sam stared up at the ceiling, thinking quietly to herself. The silence was welcomed, they both realized, after not having much to say to each other except little words of encouragement and hope. Josh had filled Sam in earlier about the twins and Victor and the Makkapitew, and although Sam felt a horrible feeling in her gut at knowing what, exactly, the Makkapitew was, and why the thing was such a big deal. The twins had gone down to the medic cabin to take care of Hannah’s sprain, and as far as anyone was concerned, Victor had gone awol.

It was all a little much to take in, at least at first. It was even more frustrating that all this had happened in the span of a few hours and Sam had slept through the brunt of it. Typical.

“Hey, weird question.” Sam said, furrowing her brows up at the timbers.

“I wear boxer-briefs,” Josh replied absentmindedly. Sam let out a snort.

“I wasn’t going to ask about your choice of undies, doofus.”

“Hey, you said _weird_ question. Nothing’s weirder than asking what kind of underwear a man likes to wear.”

“Not wrong,” Sam replied, starting to sit up. She made a face at Josh when he sat up straighter, leaning out of the recliner a bit to get ready to help Sam up. When Sam adjusted herself, she looked down at her ruined, ripped-into flannel and the band-aids and compressors that poked out between the fabric. She winced at the sight, turning slightly to look at Josh, who had his head cocked to the side, worry etched into his face.

“Sam?”

“Sorry. Just… my parents, I guess. They don’t know what happened, do they?”

Josh let out a sigh, then a bitter laugh. “Welcome to my world. Parents not knowing shit. Coming home looking like you just had a tussle with six wolves and not being able to tell them what’s _really_ out there. Fun, right?”

Sam rolled her eyes, gazing down at the bandages. “They thought I was sleeping over at your big cabin. God, if they find out…”

“They’re not gonna. You’re not gonna tell them.”

Sam hated how final that sounded, how sure Josh was that Sam wasn’t going to spill the beans to her folks. Although, he kind of had her there. Sam didn’t have anything she could say to her parents that was logical and sane and not wendigo-infested.

She swung her legs off the couch, planting her feet firmly on the cabin floor. Her vision wobbled momentarily, and her gut let her know that she wasn’t okay with dull pain ringing out from her abdomen. Sam winced at the sensation, exhaling hard through her nostrils against the pain. Josh watched her closely, concern in his eyes, leaning precariously on the edge of his seat, waiting to heroically catch Sam in case she fell. Sam stared at him, waiting for the pain to subside. She let out a pained sigh.

“I think I need some air.”

Josh jutted his chin towards the thick canvas curtains behind her. “Open a window.”

“Outside. _Fresh_ air.”

“I was kind of told to keep you inside the cabin.”

“Seriously? I never took you for a guy that did what he was told.”

He broke into a wide grin, standing dramatically from his position in the recliner. “I mean, I guess you kind of got me there, Sammy. I wouldn’t want to look like some sort of good samaritan type that wins medals for following the law.”

“True. Unfortunately for you, they don’t give out medals for being cocky sons of bitches, either.”

Josh made a face at her, outstretching a hand to help the girl up off the couch. “Seriously, how do you just come up with these? It’s like you _want_ me to fall in love with you.”

“Not even funny, Washington.”

Sam took hold of his hand, surprised at his grip as he pulled her up, leading her with care and patience towards the front door, stopping now and then to wait for Sam’s head to stop spinning long enough to where she could walk. He led her out the door, standing aside and letting Sam go first, and she leaned against the rickety old banister of the porch. The sun was bright still, high in the sky, touching Sam’s cheeks in glowing warmth. She sighed.

“Man. I figured this was a summer I would never forget, but not in the way it’s been.”

Josh was standing next to her, chuckling at the statement, looking around aimlessly at the trees.

“Not really your run of the mill summer vacation, huh?”

“I mean, getting out of L.A. was a pretty big step for a summer vacation. I mean, no Ubers? Vegan hot dogs? Rush hour traffic? It’s like I’m in the middle of nowhere or something.”

“Yeah. Canada.”

She rammed her elbow into his side, and Josh let out a boisterous laugh, nudging the girl back. The pair looked out into the trees, silent, listening to the birds and enjoying the warmth of the sun. Josh cleared his throat.

“Hey, Sammy?”

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, surprised to see the boy facing her completely, one arm resting against the porch banister, the other wrapped around himself, contemplation on his face. She turned her head around fully to look at him, quirking an eyebrow. Josh bit his lip for a second, thinking.

“I never got to apologize to you.”

Sam shrugged at him. “I don’t know what you’re apologizing for, but thanks.”

“Uh, everything?” Josh said with a childish eyeroll. “Like, I was a douchebag--”

“Josh.”

“--and was a pretty shitty mine buddy--”

“Joshua.”

“--not to mention, you almost died because I’m a careless fuck--”

_“Josh.”_

He clammed up, raising his eyes at the blonde who glared at him, lips pursed, jaw working as she tried to come up with words to say. She was too good to him.

“Yes, Sam?” Josh asked, quietly. The look on Sam’s face melted and her eyes were full of sadness. Josh kind of hated that she was looking at him that way, again, as if she wasn’t already driving him crazy. He reflected back when they were just inside that cabin and he lost his composure and yelled at a girl who didn’t do anything wrong.

_“I don’t think you’re a mess.”_

Her voice had been full of sincerity, and the way she looked at him had been so… _different_ from the way others did when he was acting like a piece of shit. She wasn’t angry, or scared, or pitying him like he was dying.

Sam had looked at him with such care and compassion he thought his goddamn heart had stop.

And here she was, giving him that same caring, compassionate stare wound so tightly with sadness that Josh almost wanted to kiss her. Apologetically. With his mouth.

He hadn’t been very good to her, to be honest.

Josh waited patiently for the girl to speak, and Sam let loose a tired sigh.

“You don’t have to apologize for being _yourself,_ Josh.”

He was dumbfounded. And pleasantly surprised once more by little Sammy O’Donnell. She really was _something_.

Josh wasn’t entirely sure if he was still just jokingly in love with her or actually in love with her at this point. Neither was a good idea, if he was honest, because Josh still knew his duty on the mountain. He had a role to play in keeping Blackwood Pines safe. No connections to the campers because it wasn’t safe. No friends, no family, no falling in love because that was safety and that was smart and that was the only way he could help keep Blackwood _safe_. That was the easiest way.

When did the easy way suddenly become so fucking hard?

When the fuck did he start caring so deeply about some summer camper that Josh Washington let her be the exception to all the rules he and the girls put in place?

Why was Sam so _different?_

He leaned hard against the railing of the porch, looking down the trail, hoping that Beth and Hannah would be seen walking towards them and he could change the topic but then he felt a hand fall on top of his own and his heart raced a little faster. He glanced down at Sam’s hand, raising an eyebrow, then at her, who seemed just as surprised at what she was doing as he was.

“Josh,” Sam was hesitating. She gave his hand a squeeze. “I mean it, really. You don’t need to say you’re sorry. I’m always gonna forgive you.”

He felt for a bought of courage, bending down a little until he was eye-level with the petite girl, leaning in close to her face to let every feature of her visage burn into his memory. She was making a face, eyes wide, eyebrows raised, lips contorting into a grin that was badly trying not to laugh. He narrowed his gaze.

“What?”

“You’re making _such_ a weird face. Do I have something in my teeth or what?”

Josh straightened up, pulling far away from Sam, feeling his cheeks grow warm. He cleared his throat. “U-uh, no. Nothing. You’re perfect.”

It was Sam’s turn to blush, flicking her eyes away from the lanky boy and back towards the trees. She inhaled the air deeply, taking in the scent of the pines.

_Perfect, huh?_

She figured she shouldn’t read too deeply into the way he said that, but she really couldn’t help it. She always felt far from perfect. The party-pooper of her friends. The “little sister.” The athlete that couldn’t really afford to screw up but the one day she got bronze in a race she spent the night crying into her pillow because failure had never been an option for Samantha O’Donnell, the diligent one, the considerate soul, the adventurous spirit that was supposed to kick ass and take names.

But that had always felt so hollow. So unrealistic, like she was living up to a list of things people wanted her to be but inside everything else was different. Failure was a real possibility, even if others didn’t think she was so capable of it. She could try to be the mom friend, the one that cared the most, but it felt a little shitty when people didn’t return the favor.

She leaned a little closer to Josh, nudging him with her elbow to let him know she was there, and was comforted when he nudged her back and scooted in until they were shoulder-to-shoulder, arms hanging over the porch banister, letting the forest envelope them in shade from the sun and the cool summer breeze.

She needed a moment like this. A moment to just relax and pretend she was okay, that everything was okay, that there were no monsters in the woods and her stomach wasn’t punctured and she and Josh were just existing in this one suspension of time that meant the world to her after the night they just had.

“Hey, Josh?” Sam began, staring down the trail, making out the shape of identical twin sisters coming up the path. They were a long ways away, still, but the thought that she and Josh wouldn’t have this quiet together for much longer made her feel a little garbage.

“What’s up?”

She turned again to peer into his face, at the way his eyes seemed to glisten in the afternoon light, bright and, at the same time, so melancholic and full of grief. She wanted to ask him so many things. Anything. _Everything._

“Sorry I made you worry bout me, you know, in the mines. I was… being stupid. Trying to be a badass. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Josh smiled quietly, turning his head as the twins called out to the two on the porch, lifting a hand in a half-hearted wave at them. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, but then he put his hand over hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Sammy, I’m always gonna forgive you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thanks for reading!  
> i'm writing a jess fic alongside this one too. the jess fic's much shorter and there'll be a little bit of side jossam! catch it here:  
> [Some Bad Advice on Putting on Band-Aids and Turning Your Life Around](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6019885/chapters/13810885)


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